Patchwork Quilt
by Devonny Rose
Summary: On the 31 of October, 1986, a young man fell from the sky and landed with a thump on the edge of the forest next to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
1. Chapter One

**Title: Patchwork Quilt**

**Author: Devonny Rose**

**Rating: PG-13**

**Author's Notes: Okay, okay. Let's get a couple of things out of the way first. 1) Yes, I started a new story. Please don't throw tomatoes at me! It really did start out as me trying to write another chapter for DDNT, but I got hit by a plot ... tomato ... and this story appeared. I wasn't going to post it, but Xirb made me! So, any complaints do directly to Xirleb70. 2) I can't guarentee when this story will be updated. It'll just be when I have time or when more flying fruit come my way. 3) DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I would keep him in a box under my bed. Also, I don't own the title. Xirbs thought it up after she made me post this and we realized it had no title. She only knows what happened in the first chapter, but strangley enough, the title works. Go figure.**

**So, without any more ado, the story!**

On the 31 of October, 1986, a young man fell from the sky and landed with a thump on the edge of the forest next to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
Said young man, being of confused mind and now bruised body, stood up and surveyed his surroundings. His emerald eyes widen in recognition and he brushed the dirt off his deep blue outer robe.  
  
The young man's name was Harry Potter, known as the Boy Who Lived by the majority of the wizarding world, as Harry by his closest friends, and occasionally as "Hey, you!"  
  
Harry sighed and started the long walk up to castle, an uneasy feeling settling into his stomach. _Something weird is going on_, he thought.  
  
He didn't know how right he was.

* * *

Thirty minutes prior, 18 August, 1996  
  
"Morning, Tom!" Harry said cheerfully, maneuvering his way through the empty table and chairs and up to the bar.  
  
The inn keeper wasn't as happy to see him. "Harry, did you sneak out again?"  
  
Harry put a hand to his chest in mock pain. "That hurts, Tom! How can you think so low of me?"  
  
"Harry."  
  
"Alright, I snuck out again." Tom groaned. "But I had to! I couldn't stand being there for another minute." His face darkened. "I can't be in his house when he's not there anymore ..." Harry trailed off. "Please, don't tell Dumble."  
  
"I won't," he said reluctantly, then added, "You know he hates it when you call him that."  
  
"That's why I do it," he replied cheekily.  
  
Tom repressed a grin. He had raised two children of his own and had seen all the different phases before adulthood. It was hard to believe that the little baby that had defeated the Dark Lord was now the rebellious teen that stood in the Leaky Cauldron. But there Harry stood – earring and all – annoying the hell out of the authority figures in his life.  
  
The fact that the main authority figure was the most powerful wizard in the world just made it all the more incredulous.  
  
"I like the hair today, Harry," Tom commented as the boy slid onto one of the stools around the bar.  
  
"It's nice, isn't it?" Harry played with one of the short, blue-tipped locks. "Tonks taught me yesterday."  
  
"Your Metamorphmagis training coming along well?"  
  
"It's okay. I can change my hair, height, eyes, and look!" He ran a hand along the skin of his unblemished forehead. "No scar!"  
  
"That's very good."

* * *

Harry grinned to himself. He was very pleased with his progress as a Metamorphmagis.  
  
It had been at the beginning of July that Tonks had Apparated into his bedroom, demanding to know why he hadn't told her of the time he grew his hair back. It wasn't until she informed him that tricks like that were manifestations of Metamorphmagic that he understood why she was so worked- up about it.  
  
And after weeks of practice, he was finally getting it down to a science. His favorite trick was changing his hair. Remus had pointed out to him that, when the trademark messy black mane was gone, Harry looked more like his mother's son.  
  
It wasn't that Harry didn't want to look like his father. Oh no, he loved his dad. It's was just, after Snape's Pensieve, he had lost a bit of respect for the man.  
  
"How are things with you, Harry?" Tom asked, interrupting the boy's inner musings.  
  
"Okay, I guess."  
  
"I don't like that tone. What's happened?"  
  
"Me and Hermione and Ron aren't getting along great."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Harry's eyes flashed as he remembered the day he had arrived at Grimmauld place.  
  
The day of Sirius' funeral.

* * *

25 July, 1996  
  
"Hermione!" Harry called out, spotting his friend in the library. "I've been looking all over for you. I –"He stopped at the closed look on Hermione's face.  
  
"Harry, we need to talk." She shut the door and motioned for him to sit down at one of the tables.  
  
He complied, saying, "About what? What's going on? I haven't heard from Ron or you all summer. I've been worried sick!"  
  
"Now you know how we feel!" she bit out suddenly. Harry recoiled.  
  
"What? Hermione –"  
  
"We can't keep doing this, Harry."  
  
"Doing what?"  
  
"Waiting for you to come back from whatever mess you had gotten yourself into, not knowing if you were alive or dead. Getting dragged into the middle of a war that doesn't involve us. We want to have normal life, Harry, and we can't have it by being your friend!"  
  
Harry sat, shocked, in his chair. But Hermione wasn't done.  
  
"I'm sick and tired of only being known as Harry Potter's best friend. I tired of being targeted because of you! I'm sorry, but I can't live like this."  
  
"This – this is how you both feel?" he croaked out.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Harry felt his temper flaring. "What, was Ron to afraid to come and talk to me himself?"  
  
"Don't be like that, Harry."  
  
"I thought you two were my friends! How can abandon me when I need you the most!"  
  
"What about what I need! I don't want to die because of you! I'm not going to end up like Sirius or your parents!" The air in the room turned icy.  
  
"How – How – could you – say that." He gave her a cold glare.  
  
"Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that the way it came out."  
  
"Get away from."  
  
"Harry –"  
  
"No. Get out. Isn't this what you wanted?"  
  
"Yes, but not like this. I –"  
  
But Harry cut her off once more. "Get. Out," he growled.  
  
He sank down in the chair, burying his face in his hands, as the door to the library slammed shut.

* * *

Harry shook himself out of the memories and gave Tom a strained smile. "It's nothing. I don't really want to talk about it."  
  
"If you're sure, but you know you can talk to me if you really need to, right?" Harry smiled at the man's concerned look. Tom's advice had become invaluable to him over the past couple of weeks, as it was coming from one of the only people who didn't think of him as the Boy Who Lived or the son of Lily and James Potter.  
  
"Thanks. But it really isn't a big deal. I've been hanging out a lot more with Red now." At seeing Tom's confused face, Harry elaborated. "Ginny. She's great. Whacks me across the head every time I say something self- depreciating." Tom chuckled.  
  
"That's just the kind of person you need in your life. A teenager like you needs someone to beat some sense into you." Tom saw Harry' wince and immediately realized he erred. "Sorry. I didn't mean that to come out the way it sounded."

* * *

Tom watched as the boy absentmindedly rubbed the scar on his collar-bone. The inn-keeper was filled with anger whenever he saw that mark. _How could they do that to their own flesh and blood?!? Especially such a good kid like Harry!  
_  
The poor thing had turned up in his pub a few weeks earlier, bloody and battered. Tom has taken him up to one of the rooms and treated some of the cuts, but Harry had strongly refused to go to St. Mungo's ...

* * *

20 July, 1996  
  
"Harry, I don't understand why you won't just see a Healer!" Tom pleaded. "And we have to warn the DMLE! If there was a Death Eater attack –"  
  
"It wasn't any Death Eaters," Harry said quietly.  
  
"Then who?" Tom's eyes widened in realization and he sat down on the bed. "That why you ran way in your third - How long has this been going on?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "As long as I can remember." Tom's fists clenched and he added, "It hasn't been this bad since before I got my Hogwarts' letter."  
  
Tom took a deep breath and stood up. "I should contact Dumbledore –"  
  
"No! Please don't!" There was a wild, panicked look in his eyes.  
  
"What - ?"  
  
"Please, just don't get him. No, please. He'll send me back there. I don't want to go back."  
  
"Harry, calm down. There's no way he'd send you back to an abusive family."  
  
"He's done it before." Tom looked taken aback. "Just, don't tell him I'm here."  
  
"Alright."  
  
So, for following few days, Harry Potter had recovered and hidden at the Leaky Cauldron while rumors swept the world of his disappearance.  
  
"I heard he was captured by You-Know-Who!"  
  
"I heard he's gone of to train for the defeat of the Dark Lord!"  
  
"I heard he murdered someone and is now on the run from the Ministry!"  
  
Tom chuckled when he heard that last one. _Guess I'm aiding and abetting a fugitive.  
_  
On the 23, Tom went upstairs to ask Harry what he wanted to do next.  
  
"You can't go back to your relatives," Tom said. "And I'll make sure you don't have to." Harry smiled gratefully. "But you can't stay here much longer. Someone is bound to discover you before long. I know the Order is worried sick about you and they are looking everywhere."  
  
"Wait, you know about the Order?"  
  
"I'm a member, Harry. Someone has to keep an ear out in the Alley." Then he gave Harry a long look. "I really shouldn't be doing this, but I'll let you stay a few more days. If you contact someone from the Order and let them know you're alright."  
  
"Sounds good to me."

* * *

The next day, Bill Weasley and Nymphadora Tonks showed up in the pub.  
  
"What did you call us here for?" Bill asked as they climbed the stairs. "You said it was urgent?"  
  
"Yeah, got us all tingly with anticipation," Tonks teased. They stopped outside of room 314.  
  
"Be quiet, he's been through quite an ordeal and I think he's sleeping." As Tom pushed open the door, Tonk's shrieked,  
  
"Harry!"  
  
"Shhh!"  
  
"What's he doing here?"  
  
After Tom was finished explaining, Tonks had tears streaking her face and Bill had a look of steel in his eye. It was then that Harry decided to awaken.  
  
"Bill? Dora?" Tonks was so happy to see him that she let the name slide and jumped on top of him. Harry winced at her hug and she pulled away.  
  
"Oh! I'm sorry! I forgot! I'm –"  
  
"No, no. It's okay, Dora. I'm fine. Really."  
  
Tom pulled Bill aside as Harry and Tonks talked. "He doesn't want to go back to Headquarters just yet. But keeping him cooped up like this isn't doing him much good. I was hoping you two could take him somewhere. He needs a little fun."  
  
A slow smirk spread across Bill's face. "Fun, huh?" He turned to Harry." Hey, kiddo, get dressed."  
  
"Why?" he asked, warily.  
  
"We're going shopping."

* * *

18 August, 1996  
  
"What are you thinking about, Tom?" Harry asked, trying to get the man's attention.  
  
Tom snapped back to reality and smiled. "The day Mr. Weasley and Miss Tonks came to visit."  
  
Harry laughed. "That was a great day." He pulled on the small hoop clasped to his ear.

* * *

23 August, 1996  
  
Harry inwardly groaned. Note to self: Never go shopping with Nymphadora Tonks again.  
  
It had been a long day, Tonks dragging him from store to store, forcing him to try on what had to be every article of clothing under the sun. But, Harry had to admit to himself, it was fun.  
  
"So, we still have a couple of hours left," said Bill as they strolled down the bustling street. "Where to?"  
  
Harry scanned the sides of the road, looking for interesting shops, when his eyes fell upon the sign, **'Tony's Tattoos and Piercings'**. He looked over at Bill, who fang earring was glinting in the sun.  
  
"Hey, Bill," he said mischievously. "How much did that piercing hurt?"

* * *

"I can't believe you let them do that to you," Tom said, shaking his head.  
  
"Why? What's wrong with an earring?" asked Bill, trying to sound offended, but failing miserably. They laughed. "Well, we better be getting back. Everyone's going to be relieved that Harry's okay."  
  
"Especially Remus," added Tonks. Harry cringed.  
  
"How is he doing?" he asked softly.  
  
"As well as can be expected. He'll be glad to know that you are safe."  
  
"Could you tell him that I'm sorry for worrying him and that I hope to see him soon?"  
  
"Of course." She saluted. "If there anything else we can do for you, Captain Harry?"  
  
"As a matter of fact ... "He leaned over to his trunk and rummaged through it. "Could you give this to Professor Snape?" Tonks raised an eyebrow, but just nodded and didn't comment.  
  
"Well, see you soon, Harry."  
  
"Bye."

* * *

_Dear Professor Snape,  
  
I know that I am the last person you expected or wanted to hear from over the break. But there are a few things I needed to clear up with you.  
  
First of all, I wish to apologize. I shouldn't have looked into your Pensieve. I know how violating it is to have your thoughts invaded like that, Voldemort did it to me all last year. The only excuse for my behavior that I can offer is that I was hoping to find what you were hiding about the Department of Mysteries in there, but I know that's not enough. So once again, I'm sorry.  
  
I also apologize for what I saw. My father and Sirius had no right to do that to you. I'm sorry they were such arrogant berks and I want you to know that I understand what you went through. My cousin use to pick on me before I found out I was a wizard.  
  
If it's any consolation, the last conversation I ever had with Sirius, I scolded him for what he did to you. I guess it was a kind of poetic justice.  
  
Which brings me to my last topic. I apologize for blaming you for Sirius' death. It wasn't your fault. It was mine for not taking Occulmency seriously and for going to the Department of Mysteries. It was Sirius' fault for not staying at Grimmauld place. It's Dumbledore's fault for not telling me why I was getting those visions. It was Bellatrix's fault because she cast the final curse. And it was Voldemort's fault because ... well, I don't have to explain that last one. But it wasn't your fault at all. I'm sorry for taking my anger out on you.  
  
I'll understand completely if you never even read this letter, burning it as soon as you realize who it's from.  
  
Harry Potter  
_

* * *

18 August, 1996  
  
"Anyway, Harry –"Tom never got a chance to finish his sentence. Harry's body had gone rigid, his eyes rolling back into his head. "Harry!"  
  
And, with that, Harry Potter disappeared. 


	2. Chapter Two

**A/N: First of all, I'd like to thank the people who pointed out my mistake last chapter. At one point it says August 25, it should have been July 25. My appologies. Secondly, thanks to everyone who reviewed! And, thirdly, I leave on Sunday for a week without computer access. I'll try to write a chapter tomorrow, but I'm not promising anything.**

_In the Last Chapter:  
  
18 August, 1996  
  
"Anyway, Harry –"Tom never got a chance to finish his sentence. Harry's body had gone rigid, his eyes rolling back into his head. "Harry!"  
_  
_And, with that, Harry Potter disappeared.  
_  
31 October, 1986  
  
_Dumble is going to love this, Harry thought. First I snuck out, then I got myself magically transported to Hogwarts ... He'll never let me go anywhere again!  
_  
Harry pushed open the door and was met with a cacophony of noise. _What the - ?_ A pair of small children ran in front of him, nearly knocking him over. _Why are there so many people here?  
_  
"Hey!" shouted a voice from the staircase. "Be careful down there!" Harry's head whipped around and his eyes widened: Bartimus Crouch was stalking towards the kids. "You're going break something if you don't watch out."  
  
"Sorry, Mister Crouch," they mumbled and scurried off. Crouch turned and Harry started panicking.  
  
_Oh, no! He can't recognize me! He's supposed to be dead! What is going on here?_ He quickly altered his face - changing his eyes blue to match his hair - and tried to remain expressionless.  
  
"Hello," Mr. Crouch greeted. "Can I help you?"  
  
"Ah, yes! My name is ... Zachary. Zachary Harrison. Er, is this Hogwarts?" he finished lamely.  
  
"You must be here for the convention. Come this way." He began to lead a very confused Harry to the Great Hall. "You're late, you know. The other students all arrived this morning."  
  
"I'm ... sorry. There was a delay."  
  
"Punctuality will lead you far in life," he snapped. "Remember that. I'll have to inform the Headmaster that he has another charge."  
  
They entered the Hall. Banners and steamers hung from the rafters and the room was full of people: students, teachers, Ministry members, and more. The reason why was apparent and it caused Harry's heart to sink.  
  
'**The 500th Annual International Wizards' Convention  
October 31, 1986'  
**  
_Oh, shit._

_

* * *

_

__

Dumbledore watched through his half-moon glasses as Bartimus Crouch escorted a young man into the hall. There was something vaguely familiar about him ...  
  
"Professor!" Mr. Crouch called. "Another new arrival for you. His name's Zachary Harrison."  
  
"Well, Mr. Harrison," said Dumbledore. "Where are you from?"  
  
"London."  
  
"I meant, what school are you from?"  
  
"I was ... home-schooled."  
  
The Headmaster frowned at the uneasy look on the students face. There was something not quite right there. He'd have to keep a close eye on this one.

* * *

Harry tried to rack his brain for anything he'd learned about the International Wizards' Convention in History of Magic. The last time there was a large gathering of members was 1986 ... it helped create wizarding unity ... Why, oh, why did he have to fall asleep in Binns' class so often?  
  
_Okay, recap: I'm stuck in the past. I have no idea how I got here. Or how to get back, for that matter. Oh, yeah, I'm screwed.  
  
_"We'll have to get you settled in then." Harry noted the twinkle absent from Dumbledore's eye. "First order of business is to have you Sorted."

* * *

Harry sat on the stool while Hat was slowly dropped over his head.  
  
'Ah, Mr. Potter!' the Hat greeted. 'I wasn't expecting to hear from you for a while.'  
  
'_It's good to see you, too, Sorting Hat_.'  
  
'You've certainly grown-up to be a polite young man. Let's take a look, shall we? My, my, this is interesting! It seems you have already been Sorted? A Gryffindor, eh?'  
  
'_Yes, well, I've changed a lot over the years ..._'  
  
'I can see that. You've been through so much for one so young.'  
  
'_Can we just stick with the Sorting part?_'  
  
'Alright, don't get impatient. Are you going to let me choose where to place you this time?'  
  
_'Yes.'_  
  
'No arguments this time?'  
  
_'None that I can think of.'_  
  
'Very well then.  
  
"SLYTHERIN!"  
  
Dumbledore's smiled drooped slightly as he watched the young man stand up, but Severus Snape's interest grew exponentially.  
  
"If you could take a seat over there, Mr. Harrison." He waved a hand towards the green-bedeck table. "We will commence with the banquet in a half-an-hour."

* * *

Dumbledore's eyes followed Zachary's path to the Slytherin table. He leaned over and whispered to his Potions Professor.  
  
"Keep watch on that one, Severus."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"He worries me. Just be cautious around him."  
  
Severus nodded.

* * *

Harry sat down and was immediately accosted by his neighbor.  
  
"Hi! You're name's Zachary, right? Can I call you Zach? I'm Rebecca! My friends call me Becker. Isn't Hogwarts great? I just love it here already. And the people are so nice. It's much better than Beauxbatons. It's so exciting to be at the Convention. It's like being part of history! And – " Harry clapped a hand over her mouth. This girl reminded him of Hermione. At that thought, he felt a pang in his chest.  
  
"Let's see if I got all that - Hello. Yes and you may call me Zach. It's nice to meet you, Becker. That's an interesting nickname. Hogwarts seems nice so far, I only just got here. And the only people I've met are the Headmaster and Mr. Crouch. And he gives me the creeps."  
  
"Which one?" came a voice from his other side. Harry turned to see a boy with ... no hair?  
  
"Pick one," he responded and the boy chuckled.  
  
"Lex Peterson," the boy said, sticking out his hand.  
  
"Zachary Harrison."  
  
"Thanks for that," Lex said, jerking his head toward Becker. "She's been talking none stop since she got here."  
  
"She does it all the time at home as well," said the boy sitting across the table. "I'm Jabez Douleur, by the way."  
  
The girl next to Lex snorted. "And Lexi here shouldn't be talking. He's just full of information."  
  
"Yes, but I do not spew it forth like a bubbling brook, Lelia" he pointed out, eloquently.  
  
Lelia rolled her eyes. "See what I mean?"  
  
Harry smiled at her and opened his mouth to respond, but Becker chose that time to bite his hand.  
  
"Ouch!" he exclaimed, rubbing his now sore fingers. "Merde!"  
  
"Tu parler le francais?" asked Rebecca.  
  
"Un peu," he replied, then switched back to English. "Mostly swear words." After spending weeks in the same house as Fleur, it was hard not to know – she cursed worse than a sailor. "A friend of mine taught me."  
  
"Does she go to Beauxbatons?"  
  
"She ... um, used to."  
  
"All of my family has gone there. It's a tradition that started back with my great-great-great – "  
  
"Hon, you're babbling again," said Lelia and Becker look sheepish.  
  
"Sorry." She turned back to Harry. "You never told us what school you were from?"  
  
"Oh, I'm home-schooled," he said uneasily, hoping she wouldn't ask questions. But this was Becker, so ...  
  
"Ooo, what's that like?"  
  
"It's okay – "  
  
"Are your parents good teachers? It must be weird."  
  
"My parents are dead," he stated bluntly.  
  
Becker's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm such an idiot. I just assumed ..."  
  
"No, it's alright. You didn't know." He went on to explain. "I live with my ... Uncle and some of my godfather's family."  
  
"What about your godfather?"  
  
"He was killed in an accident a couple months ago."  
  
"I'm two for two today, aren't I?" She laid her head on the table and wrapped her arms around herself.  
  
"No, no. Really, it's alright - "  
  
"Hey, look!" Jabez pointed to the front of the room. "It's starting."  
  
At the Head Table, Dumbledore stood up to address the crowd. "Ladies and Gentlemen, it is a great honor to be with you here tonight, celebrating the unity between out countries and the 5th Anniversary of the Dark Lord's Defeat!"  
  
The corrugation cheered, but a certain Gryffindor-turned-Slytherin paled.  
  
_The what?!?_


	3. Chapter Three

**A/N: This chapter isn't what I wanted it to be. But, for some reason, this was the best draft I got. Oh well.**

Chapter 3

"Zachary?" Lelia asked, concerned. "What's wrong?"  
  
"You alright, mate?" added Lex.  
  
Harry pulled his hands under the table to hide their shaking. "No-nothing. I'm fine."  
  
Dumbledore took no notice of the drama at the Slytherin table. "Before we feast, it is my great honor and pleasure, I might add, to introduce Mr. Remus Lupin."  
  
A slightly younger Remus stood up from his seat and made his ways to front of the room. He took the podium. "Today is October 31st. 5 years ago, an era ended in more ways than one. The Dark Lord was finally defeated, but with blood on his hands. In that war, I lost everyone close to me. I know that, wherever they are, they're smiling right now. This is our chance to make sure that future generations have a better life than we did. So, on the anniversary of the end, we start anew. Thank you for listening."  
  
Harry unconsciously clapped along with the rest of the audience, staring at the brown-haired man.  
  
"Sad story, that one," sighed Lelia.  
  
"Why? What happened?" Becker questioned. "I've never heard about him."  
  
Lex leaned forward. "Remus Lupin was best friends with James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius Black."  
  
"Wait, THE James Potter? Harry Potter's father?"  
  
"The very same."  
  
"The other two names sound familiar, but ... I can't place them."  
  
"The day after You-Know-Who was defeated, Sirius Black killed 13 people, including Peter Pettigrew."  
  
"My God." She glanced up to where Remus had resumed sitting. "Poor guy."  
  
"I couldn't believe it when I heard," said Lelia. "I remember Black. He was always here at school, working in the Resistance. It was such a shock to all of us. It must have been terrible for Mr. Lupin. Are you sure you're okay, Zach?"  
  
Harry started at the abrupt inquiry. "I'm fine. Just thinking about something. It's ... very different to be in a boarding school than it is to be at home."  
  
The five Slytherins seemed to except that excuse, though Jabez gave him suspicious look.  
  
None of them noticed a pair of amber eyes watching them.

* * *

Dumbledore stood once more after dessert disappeared. "Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have your attention for one final time before we retire to bed?" When the Hall quieted, he continued. "Thank you." He waved his hand and a curtain on the back wall that Harry hadn't previously noticed fell.  
  
A gleaming black wall was hidden behind it. Harry was entranced by the way the lights glimmered on its surface.  
  
"A tribute. A memorial to the fallen. On the wall, each and every name of the Dark Lord's victims is carved. Please, keep them in your hearts and in your thoughts during this week." And with that, the corrugation was dismissed.  
  
"Come on, Becker, Jabez, Zach. We'll show you the way to the Common," Lex offered, as he rose from the table.  
  
"No, you guys go ahead." Harry's eyes were still on the wall. "I'll catch up."  
  
"If you're sure ... I guess we'll see you later."  
  
Slowly, the room emptied, leaving Harry alone. He quietly walked up to the wall, running his fingers over the names. The smooth, dark marble felt cold under his touch.  
  
_Cold as death,_ he thought sardonically.  
  
He scanned the list, some jumping out at him.  
  
_Marlene McKinnon  
  
Frank Longbottom  
  
Alice Longbottom  
  
Benjy Fenwick  
  
Edgar Bones  
  
Caradoc Dearborn  
  
Gideon Prewett  
  
Fabian Prewett  
  
Dorcas Meadowes_

There. There they were.  
  
_James Potter  
  
Lily Potter  
_  
"Hi, Mum," he whispered. "Hey, Dad." He wiped a tear from his eye and pressed it to their names. Then his breath came out in a short gasp.  
  
_Peter Pettigrew_  
  
HIS name was right there. Right below Harry's parents. Teeth clenched, he imagined scratching out each letter. Oh how he wished he could do that to the rat himself ...  
  
"Heartbreaking, isn't it?" spoke up a voice behind him. Harry jumped ...  
  
... and came face to face with Remus Lupin.  
  
"Oh! Hi! I thought – well, I thought – that I was the only one here."  
  
Remus gave him a strained smile. "Did you know someone who is – "He motioned to the wall.  
  
"Yeah. It really is terrible to read this. It makes it more permanent somehow. Their deaths being carved in stone."  
  
"It's almost as if they are just names now. The people themselves aren't here."  
  
"That kind of makes it better."  
  
They stood, side by side in silence.  
  
"I really should be getting down to me Common Room," Harry finally said. "My friends will be worried." He turned away.  
  
"How is it possible that you are here, Harry?"


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter 4**  
  
_Previous Capter: "I really should be getting down to my Common Room," Harry finally said. "My friends will be worried." He turned away.  
  
"How is it possible that you are here, Harry?"  
_  
Harry froze. "What – what did you just say?"  
  
"I asked how you could possibly be here, Harry, when I know for a fact that you are living at your aunt and uncle's house and that you are only six years old."  
  
"How could you possibly – "  
  
He tapped his nose. "Benefit of being a werewolf. An amazing sense of smell. I spent enough time around you as a baby to be able to recognize you by scent." He gave Harry a scrutinizing look. "You sure grew up faster than I expected you to."  
  
Harry laughed nervously. "Yeah, well, I eat my vegetables."  
  
"Are you ever going to answer my question?"  
  
"Not here." He looked around the room nervously. "Follow me."  
  
"Where are we going?"  
  
"Someplace that will cater to our needs."

* * *

Minutes later, Remus and Harry were settling themselves into a couch by the fire in the Room of Requirement.  
  
"Interesting place," Remus commented. "One of the few in the school that I don't know about."  
  
"Not many do." He thought for a second and then a plate of cookies and some glasses of milk appeared. "Something to eat? Chocolate chip is your favorite, right?"  
  
"Thank you. But you are dodging the subject."  
  
"It's a long story. A long and very complicated story."  
  
"Well then give me the shortened version of it."  
  
"I snuck out of Grimmauld place, which, as you know, is Sirius' house, who is innocent, by the way, or was innocent because he was killed last June by Bellatrix Lestrange, who is working for Voldemort again now that he is back and she is out of Azkaban. Anyway, I went to the Leaky Cauldron to visit Tom, who is in the Order and helped me the first time I ran away, even though he was worried that Voldemort was going to find me because it seems like the crazy guy's main obsession, which is also why I think I'm here, he must have sent me back in time. It seems like something he would do," Harry finished.  
  
Remus gaped at him. He coughed and closed his mouth. Finally, he said, "Maybe you should give me the slightly longer version."  
  
Harry took a deep breath and began. He told Remus about Voldemort's attempts at returning, Sirius' innocence, Wormtail's involvement in Voldemort's resurrection, the Ministry's denial, Sirius' death, running away from the Dursleys, and, finally, ending up in 1986.  
  
"And when I saw Mr. Crouch, I kind of panicked, and changed. I mean, the man is dead, or will be dead someday. It was kind of a shock." Harry picked up his glass and finished the rest of his milk. The glass refilled itself. "Now, I don't suppose you'll let me Obliviate you?"  
  
"What?" Remus looked startled.  
  
"I really shouldn't have told you any of that." Although it felt good to get it off his chest, Harry knew that Remus could not know this much about the future. It was too dangerous.  
  
"Harry," said Remus. "How about I help you find a way to get back to the future before you fix my memories. Then, by all means, Obliviate away."  
  
"If you're sure – "  
  
"I am. And, plus, I want a chance to get to know you."  
  
"Trust me, I'm not all that interesting. I'm the most normal, boring person you could ever meet."  
  
"Harry, you just detailed one hell of an adventure. And I've met loads of boring people before. You don't strike me as the type." He leaned back and rested his feet against the table, suddenly looking a whole lot younger than the Remus that Harry knew. Which, really, he was. "So, tell me something interesting about yourself."  
  
"Would you like the long or the short version first?"  
  
Remus laughed. "Come on, Harry. After what you just said, nothing can surprise me anymore."  
  
"Alright. I'm a Gryffindor Parselmouth, who can't dance and has had almost twenty near death experiences." He smirked at the look on Remus' face.

"You know, when you say things like that, I have a hard time believing that you are a 'boring, normal person'."  
  
"At least I can try to become one. It's my main goal in life."  
  
Remus' forehead scrunched up in concentration. "Wait, I thought you were a Slytherin."  
  
"Noticed that, did you? How long were you watching me exactly?"  
  
"Since you entered the Hall."  
  
Harry chuckled. "I am a Slytherin now," he elaborated. "But I'm a Gryffindor five years from now."  
  
"Why the sudden change in house?"  
  
"I just finally let the Sorting Hat do what it has always wanted to do." He gave Remus a hard look. "You don't have a problem with me being a Slytherin, do you?"  
  
"No, no. I had friends who were Slytherins back in school. Though, I don't know why you would switch. I have seen the Slytherin Common Room and it doesn't measure up to the Gryf – "  
  
"The Common Room!" Harry glanced at the clock. "I've got to get back there!"  
  
Remus stood up. "I'll walk you back. And tomorrow, I'll start searching for a way to get you back to your own time." He gripped Harry's shoulder. "If there is anything you need, don't hesitate to ask."  
  
"Actually," Harry began sheepishly. "There is something I need."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Well, I don't have any of my things with me. I have my Gringotts' key, since I was in Diagon, but I have no way of going shopping. Or taking money out without suspicion."  
  
"Don't worry, Harry. I'll take care of everything."

* * *

"Where is Mr. Harrison?" Severus Snape asked his students as he stopped to check the Common Room. He was supposed to be watching the boy, but he couldn't really do that if he couldn't find him.  
  
"He was still in the Great Hall, Professor," answered Lelia. "That was the last time I saw him."  
  
"Thank you, Ms. Williams." He strode out of the room, his cloak blowing menacingly behind him as he headed for the Hall. But he never made it that far.  
  
When he reached the end of the hallway, Zachary Harrison turned the corner. Accompanied by one Remus Lupin.  
  
"It seems I've caught one of your students, Severus," said Remus, eyes dancing with mirth. "Whatever shall I do with him?"  
  
"What are you doing wandering around, Mr. Harrison?" inquired the Professor, ignoring his former classmate.  
  
Harrison looked slightly abashed. "I'm sorry, Professor. It won't happen again. It's just that, I've never been in a school like this before and Mr. Lupin here was nice enough to tell me what it was like for him as a student here."  
  
Severus softened slightly. "Alright, Mr. Harrison. Just get to bed." After he had entered the Common Room, Severus turned to Lupin. "If I find out that you have been corrupting my student with you Gryffindorish notions of wandering the school at night and heading headlong into danger, then – "  
  
"Relax, Severus." Remus smirked. "I don't think anything I say can corrupt him more." His smirk grew at the baffled look on Severus' face. "Good- night." 


	5. Chapter Five

**A/N: Yay, I actually finished this chapter. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to because of the huge pile of homework I have to do before school starts. I know, that logic is warped, right? Anway, on the the story.**

**Chapter 5**

18 August, 1996

Ginny Weasley hummed tunelessly to herself as she headed downstairs for breakfast. She was in an unusually good mood this morning, mostly due to the wonderful night's sleep she had. It had been a long time since she had rested without any dreams of Tom Riddle's Diary.

She sighed, her good mood diminishing slightly with that thought. It had taken years for her to fully get over the events of her first year, but she had finally come to terms with it. Except for the occasional violent nightmare, those memories were only a slight shadow in her subconscious. And, although she wished it had never happen, she was glad that she knew how to comfort Harry now.

While she didn't know what it was like to lose someone she cared about, she was able to relate to Harry over Voldemort's possession. She understood why Harry had struggles over the summer to master Occulmency to prevent anyone from ever entering his mid again. It felt awful not to have control.

A week into vacation, Ginny had sent Harry her first letter to him. She knew that he only thought of her as Ron's little sister, but she wanted – no, needed to make sure he was alright after the Department of Mysteries. Remus had sent him a note, but all he had gotten back was a short answer: 'I'm fine, don't worry about me.' She was sure he couldn't be fine after what had happened. And he hadn't even mentioned leaving the Dursleys, which worried her as she knew how much he hated it there.

So she had borrowed Pig from Ron and sent a message to Harry. It was filled with jokes and anecdotes about the Twins and anything that wasn't about Voldemort.

Harry had responded two days later, faster than he had with anyone else's letters. And the two had formed a unique friendship.

Ginny entered the kitchen and immediately glared at her brother. She hadn't quite forgiven him about the way he and Hermione had treated Harry. And on the day of Sirius' funeral no less! It wasn't like they were even in any less danger now, what with their connection to the Order. The only thing that had accomplished was to ruin a great friendship and add to Harry's already overly large guilt complex.

Speaking of which ...

"Where's Harry?" she asked the various Order members sitting around the table.

"Still in his room," Kingsley replied. "He didn't go to bed until late last night, so we thought it best to let him sleep in a little today." He glanced at his watch. "But I'm surprised he hasn't woken on his own by now."

"Ginny dear, would you mind going to wake-up Harry?" he mother asked, bustling around by the stove. Ginny shook her head and exited the kitchen again.

She lightly knocked on the door to his bedroom. Getting no answer, she slipped into the room. "Ry?" she whispered, using the code name they had established in their letters. It still gave her chills whenever he called her Red, even though she swore up and down that she was over her silly infatuation with him. It was just that the code names gave a secret agent feel to everything, like they were stuck in a comic book. It made everything seem so much more dangerous.

Ginny blinked, her eyes having difficulty adjusting to the dim light of the room. When her vision finally focused, she saw a sight she dreaded.

Harry's bed was empty.

"Oh, I really don't want to be the one to tell Mum you snuck out again."

She carefully made her way over to the bed and searched for the trademark sign that Harry was gone and not just hanging out in a deserted room upstairs. There it was. A small note lay tucked under the corner of his pillow.

_Dear Whoever-it-is-who-finds-this-letter,_

_My condolences to you for having to deliver this news to Mrs. Weasley. I hope you have earmuffs. _

_Yes, I snuck out again. And before you start berating me about the dangers of wandering outside without a guard, I am well covered (hint, hint Tonks)._

_Wait, you can't lecture me. I'm gone._

_New plan: yell at me when I get back, okay?_

_Harry_

_PS – Don't worry, Mad-Eye, I'm practicing CONSTANT VIGILANCE! This is just some real world experience. Oh, and better luck next time. You'll never figure out how I did it._

Ginny rolled her eyes. This was typical Harry. Boy, would he get hell for this when he returned.

Not that anyone could blame him for leaving. Again. Anyone with eyes could tell that Harry hated this house. Anyone with ears who lived in a twenty block radius had heard the argument that he had with Dumbledore over it.

There was something going on between the two of them that Ginny couldn't quite place. While she could understand Harry's anger at the Headmaster for leaving his with the Dursleys and treating him like a child, there seemed to be something else.

She shrugged it off for now and started back towards her impending doom. Calmly she pushed open the door and took her place at the table.

"Is Harry on his way down?" her mother questioned. "Or is still asleep. Poor dear, he's been sleeping fitfully lately ..."

"No, Mum, he's not still asleep. He's gone," she said simply. Ignoring the jaw drops, she added pleasantly, "So what's for breakfast?"

"Gone?" Her mother took a deep breath. "Gone? Again?"

"Are you sure he didn't just fall asleep in the library or something?" pressed Kingsley. "That's where he turned up last time."

"Positive."

"So what did it say this time?" said a voice from the doorway. Ginny turned around to face Mad-Eye Moody's whizzing blue eye. She passed him the piece of parchment, and watched as he read it and chuckled. "At least he's being careful."

"Careful?!?" yelled Mrs. Weasley. "How could he be careful?!? He could be lying dead in a ditch somewhere for all we know!"

"Mum, don't be so dramatic," Ginny snapped out, impatiently.

Mad-Eye ignored them. "I thought we had it this time, too," he mused. He looked at Ginny. "Any idea how he got out?"

"You'll have to ask Harry."

His forehead wrinkled in concentration and his magical was spinning all over the place. "Wards on the third floor bathroom look a little weak. He could have broken through there. Hmmm ... No worries, I love a good challenge."

His musings were interrupted by a sudden Floo call. Kingsley went over to answer it. A frantic and very pale Tom from the Leaky Cauldron appeared.

Ginny knew it was bad before he even opened his mouth.

"Something has happened to Harry."

* * *

The people within a twenty mile radius of Number Twelve Gimmauld Place needed to break out their earplugs again.

"We want to go to the meeting!" bellowed Ron Weasley. Hermione made a noise of agreement.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger," Dumbledore tried to explain. "But you are too young –"

"Harry's our best friend!" interjected Hermione. "We have the right to know what's going on!"

"He is not your best friend!" screamed Ginny. "You two haven't even been able to look him in the eye for a month now!"

"What do you mean?" Dumbledore look slightly disturbed by this revelation.

Hermione, for the first time in her life, ignored a teacher. "We had one fight! That doesn't mean we aren't friends anymore!"

"Oh, yes, because friends ignore each other when they need comforting the most. You didn't even write Harry one letter this summer while he was stuck with those horrible relations of his!"

"I know we were wrong – "

"Wrong? You basically accused him of murdering his parents and Sirius!" There was silence.

"What?" No one had noticed that the entire Order present had been listening to their conversations. Remus Lupin stood, looking stricken, by the staircase. Hermione and Ginny stared at each other coldly as Ron hovered awkwardly in the background.

'_They didn't know,'_ Ginny thought. _'They didn't know why Harry wasn't speaking with the rest of the supposed Dream Team.'_

"Come on, Hermione," Ron said, breaking through the tension that hung in the air. "Let's go upstairs."

Hermione lost the aggravated look on her face and stared at Ron pleadingly. "But, we need to know – "

"We can find out later, Hermione." He kept glancing at Remus' rapidly reddening cheeks. "Let's go." He reached for her arm.

"Stop." Remus' voice had an icy tone to it. "What did you say to Harry?"

Hermione looked at him fearfully. "It didn't come out the way that I meant it. I – "

"But you did tell him that he was – responsible – for their deaths?"

She nodded, timidly. Remus gritted his teeth together.

Dumbledore chose this moment to intervene. "Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, if you could please retire upstairs." They quickly left. "Remus, would you please gain control before you do something you will regret?"

"No wonder he's been so withdrawn lately. I can't believe they would – "

"We will discuss this later. Right now, we have more pressing matters. Miss Weasley – "

"Let her stay," said Remus suddenly.

The Headmaster gave him a long, penetrating look. Ginny couldn't help, but think that the professor was reading Remus' mind. He slowly nodded. "Alright."

"But Albus – " her mother started, but Dumbledore held up his hand.

"Just for this meeting. She has a right to know what is happening to Harry." Everyone took their seats, Ginny settling in next to her parents. "Now, it would appear that, one hour ago, Mr. Potter mysteriously vanished from the Leaky Cauldron. What he was doing in the Leaky Cauldron in the first place remains to be seen. I was under the impression that we would not have any more incidents like this." He glanced at Mad-Eye who grinned.

"Well, Potter has always had a strange knack for escaping."

"Quite. However, in this case – "He was cut off by the door to the meeting room opening. Severus Snape stalked in.

"I'm sorry I'm late, but I have something of great urgency to tell you."

"If this is about Harry then we already know," said Tonks.

Snape looked puzzled. "What about Potter?"

"He's missing."

"What a strange coincidence. Let me guess, he just mysteriously vanished into thin air?"

"How did you know that?"

"Because he's not the only one."

Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair. "Who else has disappeared, Severus?"

"Oh, just the Dark Lord and a large portion of his Death Eaters."


	6. Chapter Six

**A/N: I know, this chapter is short. But, you know what they say: A chapter a day keeps the doctor away! And since it has been many days since I updated, I figured I better get something out soon before I condemn someone! Yeah ...**

****

**Anyway, this is a note that should have been in an earlier chapter, but I keep forgetting to add it. So NOTE: The names of the Slytherins all have meanings pertaining to the story. They aren't just random words. I actually sat down with a name book and specifically picked them. If you can guess why I picked certain ones, I might give you a prize.**

Chapter 6

_Previous Chapter: _"_Relax, Severus." Remus smirked. "I don't think anything I say can corrupt him more." His smirk grew at the baffled look on Severus' face. "Good-night."_

Harry grinned as he heard Remus words, the wall entrance closing shut behind him. He took a step into the room. It looked the same as it had in his second year. Or, it looked the same as it would look in his second year. Right? Merlin, all these tenses were getting confusing.

As Harry started towards the boys' dorm staircase (at least, he hoped it was the boys dorm staircase. Now that would be embarrassing), a voice behind him spoke.

"What were you doing out this late?"

He turned around. Partially bathed in light from a warm fire, Lelia sat on a leather armchair. She had a small book in her hands and was absentmindedly playing with the corner of one of the pages.

"What are you doing up this late?" he countered.

"Trying to have a battle of wits with an unarmed man."

"Touché." Harry sat down across from her. "How'd you know that I was still out?"

"Professor Snape – he's the Head of Slytherin House, by the way – came by here looking for you. Plus, I've been sitting here for awhile." She snapped the book shut and leaned forward. "So what were you really doing?"

"Just trying to sort some things out," Harry answered honestly, though not adding that he had been sorting them with a werewolf.

"Sickle for your thoughts?"

He sighed. "I was looking at the memorial in the Great Hall." He didn't know why he was answering her questions, but, for some reason, he trusted her. It had been awhile since he had trusted someone without so much as an inkling of protest.

Then it hit him.

He didn't have to be so suspicious in this time. There wasn't any evil, wizard after his blood. No press hounding his every move. No adoring public who wanted him to be something he was not.

He was free, free to be whoever he wanted to be. Free to be just Harry.

And that scared the hell out of him.

* * *

Severus stared after Lupin's retreating back, forehead scrunched up in confusion at that last statement.

'_What did he mean 'corrupt any more'?'_ he thought worriedly.

But he did know.

Severus watched the child all through the feast. He watched him with his new friends, chatting and laughing. And he had seen his face when Dumbledore had unfurled the curtain. Dark, haunted eyes had stared out of Zachary Harrison's face. Eyes that were too old to belong to a sixteen year old.

He had seen those eyes many times before.

Every time he looked in the mirror.

* * *

"Why?" Lelia's inquiry cut through his musings.

"Huh?" he muttered intelligently, shaking his head slightly to clear his thoughts.

"Why did you stay there, Zach?"

"My parents are on that wall," he said softly. A hand flew to Lelia's mouth.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't know. I wouldn't have asked if – "

"You are starting to sound like Becker." The look of horror almost fully disappeared from her face and she rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "It's alright, I promise," he reassured. "It's been awhile since they died. I've accepted it."

"Still – "

"No, stills. Now, we really should be getting up to bed. We've got class in the morning, after all."

"Okay. Good-night, Zach." She gave him a brief hug and trotted up the stairs.

"Night, Lelia."

* * *

Severus paced the corridor out side his common room. He needed to have a talk with Zachary.

Looking at the entryway, he steeled his nerve and said the password. The wall slid open to admit him.

Just in time to catch Zachary say, "My parents are on that wall."

Severus closed his eyes. _'An orphan. That explains that.' _He watched as his students talked, before heading up the stairs. He walked out of the room.

The talk could wait until tomorrow.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, Xirb, I used the unarmed man comment. I just couldn't help myself.**


	7. Chapter Seven

**A/N: Much thanks to pyro420 for catching a mistake I missed.**

_**Chapter 7**_

The next morning dawned bright and clear, and it showed that Remus was true to his word: there was a trunk lying at the end of his bed. Harry shook his head; how Remus did this he would never know. But the man wasn't a Marauder for nothing.

Harry slowly opened the lid of the trunk and pulled out some robes.

"Morning, Zach," Jabez yawned from his bed by the door. "I didn't hear you come in last night." He raised an eyebrow suggestively.

"I went for a walk," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Alone."

"Good morning all." Lex came out of the bathroom, towel drying his head.

Jabez wrinkled his nose. "You're already showered? It's 7 a.m."

"Well, some of us don't wallow away the morning."

"It's not wallowing, it's sleeping," replied Harry. He picked up his clothes and made his way over to the door. He stopped and turned. "Wait, what classes do we have today?"

"Potions and Transfiguration. We have the afternoons off because of the convention." He glanced at his watch. "And they start in forty-five minutes, so if you want breakfast … "

* * *

"I want an essay on the properties of Restorative Potions tomorrow morning. You're dismissed," Professor Snape called out and there was a rustling of books and a banging of cauldrons. "Oh, Mr. Harrison. Please stay after class. I'd like a word with you."

"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked once the room was clear.

"Have a seat, Mr. Harrison." Harry complied. They were silent for a few minutes.

"Er, Professor?" Harry looked at him puzzled as Snape stared out into space. "I'm going to be late for Transfiguration."

Severus shook himself out of his thoughts. "I'm sorry, Mr. Harrison. I just wanted to … touch base with all my new Slytherins. Are you enjoying your stay in Hogwarts so far?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure. It's a nice place."

"It must be a huge adjustment for you."

He looked confused for a second before his face cleared. "Ah, different from home school? Yeah, a bit."

Severus mentally noted down the confusion. "Well, if you have any questions, my office is always open." He scribbled down a note for McGonagall. "Here."

"Thanks, Professor. I might take you up on that."

* * *

"Can I talk to you for a moment, Zachary?" Harry smiled as he saw Remus coming up to him.

"Sure." He turned to his friends. "I'll catch up later, alright?" They entered the Hall without him and Harry turned back to Remus. "So what's up?"

He waved a book that was in his hand. "I think I might have found an answer to your problem."

Harry's eyes widened and he dragged the older man by the arm, pulling him into an empty classroom. He locked the door behind him.

"A bit eager, aren't we?" Remus laughed, causing Harry to scowl slightly. The werewolf just smirked and opened the book. "Now, this is the most plausible explanation I could find, but I've only been looking for a day. Plus, this does raise some more questions."

Harry gripped the book and read:

_In rare cases, time travel can be induced by a memory. In these instances, someone in the 'past' time must cast the spell, having knowledge of an event that is to occur in the 'future'. Then, any 'future' persons who were involved with this event will then be transported to the 'past' person's time period. _

_However, there is a catch. As it is a person in the 'past' that is provoking the occurrence, it will not disrupt the path time has taken to get to the future. The time-travelers can not change the past. When they are returned to their rightful time, the people of the 'past' will forget what happened until time meets again._

"What does this mean?" Harry asked as soon as he finished reading.

"It means," said Remus, taking the book back and closing it. "That you aren't the only one here, Harry. And that someone from 1986 brought you here. Someone who knew what was going to happen in your life before it happened. Oh, and that you don't have to Obliviate me at all."


	8. Chapter Eight

**A/N: This is the rest of the chapter that I would have written yesterday if I had the time. Enjoy!**

Chapter 8

Harry headed back to the Great Hall. Remus had told him that there was a counter charm that would bring him back to the future, but it wasn't in the book. He promised he'd keep looking, though. At least they knew what they were dealing with.

However, this just complicated things more. Harry looked around the room, scanning for people who seemed out of place. Somewhere around here, there was someone else from 1996.

He shook his head and made his way over to the Slytherin table. If they were like him, they were hiding what they were. Even if he couldn't change the future, it was too dangerous to just go blabbing around that he was Harry Potter. He wasn't stupid enough not to realize that there were Death Eaters around in this time too who would like nothing better than to see him dead.

Sitting down at the table, Harry smiled at his friends, only to lose it a moment later when he noticed the frowns on their faces.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"You haven't heard what's happened?" Lelia looked up from a copy of the Daily Prophet she was reading over Lex's shoulders.

"No. What is it?" Wordlessly, Lex passed him the paper. Harry's eyes widened as he read.

**Terror Strikes the Wizarding World: Is This The Rise of Another Dark Lord?**

'_What the ...'_ Harry gasped in disbelief. He inspected the rest of the article, snatches of it jumping out of the page at him.

'_Mysterious attack last night'_

'_A hundred Muggles turned up dead, not a mark on them'_

'_Appears to be the work of the Avada Kedavra curse'_

'_Have the Death Eaters returned to action or is this the marking of a new threat, a new period of terror?'_

"Merlin," Harry gulped, his breath hitching as he read the last line of the article.

"Yeah," Jabez nodded. "My thoughts exactly."

* * *

"Hello, Harry," greeted Lupin, opening the door to his guest chambers. "What's up?"

Harry entered and shoved the paper into Remus' hands. The werewolf paled and sat down on the couch. Hard.

"Oh, no."

"I guess we know who came back in time with me."

"It can't be." He looked up at Harry pleadingly. "Right?"

"Look at the bottom of the page," he said softly.

'_The only clue to who caused this terrible disaster was a note on the wall of one of the houses: _**Kill the Spares**'

"So?" Remus asked, finishing the sentence.

"That's what He said. Right before he killed one of my classmates." There was no need to ask who he was. Harry looked at Remus, his face sorrowful. "We need to find that counter charm. And fast."

* * *

Remus scoured over books, back hunched, rubbing his eyes, while Harry paced around the room. He was too anxious to sit down.

'_This is all my fault. Some how I get myself transported to the past and I bring Riddle with me to cause havoc and destruction. Way to go, Harry.'_

"It's not your fault, Harry," spoke up Remus from the table. Harry jumped. He hadn't realized he said that out loud. "You didn't 'get' yourself transported here. Someone brought you here. It's their fault. And, plus, you don't know that they were trying to bring you here. Their goal might have been to bring Voldemort here all along."

"Well, that's uplifting," he said sarcastically.

Remus gave him a stern look. "Knock it off. I was trying to be all adult and wise."

Harry snorted and turned around. A small picture on the mantle caught his eye. He examined it closer. His father, Sirius, and Remus grinned back up at him. Then he noticed the trend. All of the pictures were of the Marauders. There was even some of him as a baby there. He didn't even hear Remus come up behind him as he ran his hand along the glass of the picture.

"You can have it if you want," Remus said quietly.

"Thanks." He smiled weakly at Remus, who looked at him concerned.

"Go back to your dorm, Harry. You've been here for," He checked his watch. "Four hours."

"Alright. Good night, Remus."

"Pleasant dreams, Harry."

* * *

Harry went up the stairs to his room, arriving there before any of his roommates got back. Sitting on the bed, he stared at the picture.

A tear dripped from his eye for the first time in months. "Hey, Sirius. Wish you were here."

It was times like these when he really missed his godfather. He just knew that Sirius would find the humor in this situation if he was here. There was no one he would rather be stuck in the past with than –

Harry stood up abruptly, the frame dropping to the floor, the glass shattering.

None of that mattered anymore.

_Sirius was alive!_


	9. Chapter Nine

**A/N (added Sept 13): Thanks to everyone who pointed out the mistaken dates to me. You guys rock! Originally, this chapter was only supposed to include the events of July 31, 1996, but I thought that turned out way too short, so I added the last but on impulse. In my hurry, I managed to screw up the dates again. Anyway, thanks again!**

Chapter 9

_31 July, 1996_

"Happy Birthday, Harry," Remus said softly, sliding into a seat next to the forlorn teen.

"'lo Remus." At the Professor's insistence he had started calling the man by his first name, though the word still felt foreign on his tongue.

"Are you feeling alright," he asked, concerned. Harry just shrugged.

"Alright, I guess. My shoulder still aches a little bit ..."

"That's not what I was asking." Remus covered Harry's hand, which was lying on the arm of the couch, with his own. "I know this is difficult – "

"No, you don't!" he burst out. "You can't possibly know what I'm feeling!"

"Yes, Harry, I do," Remus said patiently. "You aren't the only one who has lost somebody." Harry caught the implications of this and sat back down.

"I'm sorry. I know, it's just ... "

"I don't blame you for being angry, Harry. You have a reason to be. But you need to realize that any anger you hold won't bring Sirius back."

"How is it that you are so calm about this all?" Harry asked, changing the subject. Remus turned his eyes toward the window.

"I've done this before. 15 years ago."

"Was it this bad last time? I mean, the last time Voldemort was around?"

Remus nodded somberly, then shook his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. "Now why are we sitting around talking about such depressing things? Everyone is waiting for you downstairs."

"You go ahead," he answered. "I'll be down in a few minutes." Remus left the room, and Harry stood up and leaned against the window frame, staring out into the night. "I miss you so much, Sirius. Why did you leave me? I need you." Silent tears streamed down his face.

A door on the other side of the room closed. Neither Harry nor Remus had noticed the eyes of Severus Snape on them.

* * *

_1 November, 1986_

"Remus!" Harry shouted, bursting into the werewolf's quarters. He looked up, blearily.

"What is it, Harry?"

"Sirius! Sirius is alive." Harry practically danced around the room. Remus gazed at him sadly.

"Yes, he is."

Noticing the expression, he stopped prancing. "What's with the long face, Remus? Didn't you hear me? Sirius is alive!"

"Sirius is in Azkaban, Harry."

"So? We can ... break him out or something ... "He sat down on the couch looking deflated. "We can't do any of that, can we."

Remus shook his head. "I'm sorry, Harry. The same thoughts ran through my head when you told me Sirius was innocent. But we can't break him out. He doesn't leave the prison until 1993, you told me that."

"But ... but we could go see him. Right?" Harry turned hopeful eyes to him.

"I – I don't know – "

"Please. I need to see him. Just one last time."

"It'll be difficult to get there." He melted at the look on Harry's face. "Alright. I'll take you to see Sirius."


	10. Chapter Ten

**A/N: Yay, four day weekend! And I thought I'd start off this vacation on a good note: by writing a new chapter! Bon appetite!**

Chapter 10

Harry took a deep breath and knocked on the door to the Headmasters office. This was the part of the plan he was dreading.

"Come in." At Dumbledore's invitation, he pushed through the entryway of the room. The Headmaster sat behind his desk, regarding his new student with interest.

"Hello, Mr. – Harrison, is it? – What can I do for you?"

Harry looked downcast at the floor. "Sir, may I request a day's excused absence from the school?"

Dumbledore gave him a puzzled look. "Whatever for?"

Slowly, Harry looked back up, his eyes wide and slightly tearful. It was a technique he had seen his cousin, Dudley, use many times before, eliciting pity from all those around him. "My Grandmother passed away last night. Her funeral is tomorrow and I would like to be able to attend."

"Oh." Dumbledore's features softened. "Of course, Mr. Harrison. When will you be returning?"

"The day after. My guardian thought it best that I have something to take my mind off ... everything and he feels continuing visiting here will be the best."

He raised an eyebrow. "Your guardian?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. He was a friend of my parents. They died when I was young."

"My condolences."

"Thank you, Professor." He turned and left the room. He waited until he was halfway across the school before collapsing in relief. That had gone better than he had expected it to.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore watched the retreating boy with less suspicion. His intentions seemed genuine. Maybe he had been overreacting, asking Severus to keep a special eye on the child. Although, he still had a nagging feeling of familiarity.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by a second knock on the door. After bidding the person entry, the door opened to admit Remus Lupin. The young man looked slightly nervous. Albus was immediately reminded of the times Remus had been sent to the Headmaster's office as a student – he had always been a terrible liar.

"Can I help you, Remus?"

"I just wanted to let you know that I might be a little bit late for tomorrow night's dinner. I have some errands to run in London and I'm not sure what time I'll be getting back."

"It's alright, Remus. Have a good time in the city."

Albus' eyes narrowed as his office door swung shut again. Maybe he was too quick to end that suspicion after all.

* * *

"So how'd you get the Ministry to give us a visiting pass into Azkaban?" Harry asked in the silence of the car ride. The two had an agreement that they would not speak of their plans until way out of reach of the castle. And the Headmaster.

That morning, both Harry and Remus had Flued out of the school at different times, to different destinations. They had then continuously traveled through the fireplaces for the next half-hour, until meeting in a small restaurant in Northern England. They had been driving along a narrow twisting road since then. Harry had no idea where they were headed.

"Every prisoner is granted one family or friend pass into the prison a year. As everyone still thinks Sirius is a traitor, no one has visited him yet this year."

Harry hesitated. "Have you ever gone to see him before?"

"Once," Remus answered shortly.

They continued on in silence.

* * *

"Harry, Harry, wake up." He felt a gentle shaking on his shoulder. He blearily opened his eyes and saw Remus peering down at him. "We're there, Harry."

Harry lifted his head and looked around. "Azkaban is a beach?" he asked, dazed.

Remus chuckled. "No. It's off the coast from here. We have to take a boat to get to it."

Rubbing his eyes, Harry got out of the car and surveyed the beach before him. It wasn't very remarkable. There was a small dock, with an even smaller boat tied to it, and – Harry squinted – a tiny, run-down shack perched out on a rock in the sea.

'_Wait a minute!'_

"I've been here before! The Dursleys took me when they were trying to prevent me from getting my Hogwarts letter!" Remus just gave him an odd look and he motioned for the teenager to climb into the boat after him. "Weird."

* * *

"Are we almost there?" Harry could feel the excitement in his chest mounting. Sirius. He was going to get to see Sirius again!

"Do you see that dot way out there on the horizon?" Remus pointed his arm straight out in front of the boat's path. Harry's eyes followed the line.

Barely viewable was a small island set on the crease where the water and they sky met.

"Almost."

"That's it."

"Wow. I thought it would be bigger."

Remus rolled his eyes.

* * *

Almost two hours later, the looming fortress ahead of them was in full sight. Harry wished it wasn't. The chill in the air around them deepened with every passing second and Harry had to struggle to remind himself why he was doing this.

'_Sirius is in there. You will finally get to say everything you want to say to your godfather.'_

But his apprehension was still mounting.

"Remus?"

"Yes?"

"I supposed now would not be a good time to mention that my biggest fear is Dementors?"

"You supposed right." He gave Harry a wry grin. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I'm not much of a details person."

* * *

Harry's teeth chattered. The wind whipped through his hair, threatening to toss him violently out of the boat. That is, if he didn't throw himself out first. He could already hear faint echoing voices in his head. His parents. Cedric. Sirius.

The boat was fifty feet of shore and trapped in the shadow of a giant monstrosity emerging from the black water surrounding it. Sitting high upon the dark island was a weathered stronghold. Moans and pleas, carried by the breeze, rang in the ears of the approaching guests.

Remus shivered and uttered three words that almost made Harry's blood run cold.

"Welcome to Azkaban."

'_Sirius was in _there_.'_

The very thought made him want to cry.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter 11**

"We are here to see Sirius Black."

Harry didn't pay attention to Remus' conversation with the guard. He was busy staring down the corridors, looking for any hint of life. He couldn't find any.

The entire prison reeked death.

"Come this way." Remus gripped Harry's arm and steered him down the passageway. As the chill from the nearby Dementors permeated his very bones, he was glad for the small, comforting warmth of Remus' hand. It was the only thing keeping him from turning and running back out to the boat.

"Cell 493," the guard intoned and moved to rest against the wall at the end of the hall. "You have ten minutes."

The cell door looked upside down; the window Harry would have expected to be cut out of the top of the door was located at the bottom. The metal bars segregating it were spaced just far enough for a small dish of food. Or an incredibly starved dog. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat as he realized how starved Sirius would have had to be to escape through that opening.

Harry looked up pleadingly and Remus seemed to read his thoughts. "I'll wait right here for you," he reassured and releasing Harry's arm. Harry's teeth chattered.

"The doors can only be opened from the outside," the guard said and Harry jumped. He forgot the man was there. "Just knock when you want to come out."

Harry nodded and gripped the small handle on the door. He slowly pulled it open and entered the room.

The slab of cement slammed shut behind him; the smack of it hitting its hinges reverberated throughout his entire body. Cautiously, he took another step in and gazed around.

The chamber was made of stone and the walls seemed to give of a frost of its own. The only light came from a small window on the opposite wall, overlooking the vast gray sea. A small cot stood against one side and a ragged pile of blankets rested on its foot. The pile quivered.

Harry sucked in a deep breath. "Sirius?" he whispered.

The blanket fell back as a dirty man looked up. Tears filled Harry's eyes as he saw his godfather.

Sirius was gaunt and hollow. Long strands of straggly hair fell down around his feet and a mangy beard grew from his face. But the worse ... the worst were his eyes.

There was no life there. Two deep pools of murk stared back at him, unseeing, until a spark of recognition appeared there.

His parched lips opened slightly in surprise. "James?" he croaked. His voice sounded like it hadn't been used in a long time.

"No, Sirius." Harry took a step closer into the dim light. He let go of his disguise.

Sirius starred into the green eyes. "Ha – Harry?"

"Yes, it's me. Harry."

"Oh, god, Harry. You're ... so grown up. Has it been that long? You look so much like James," Sirius babbled on until Harry knelt down next to him. Then he seemed to realize. "Harry! I didn't do it! It was Peter! You have to believe me! I would never – "

"I know, Sirius," Harry interrupted. "I know. I believe you."

"You – you do?"

"Yes. And so does Remus."

"Remus?"

"Yes, Remus." He looked confused. "You do remember Remus don't you?" Sirius seemed dazed.

"Moony."

Harry nodded. "He's brought me to see you. He is just outside."

"But he said he never wanted to even think about me again."

Harry winced. "He ... he didn't know any better then. Now, he knows what really happened ..."

"How?"

"I ... "Harry bit his lip. "I can't tell you that, Sirius."

Sirius sat up a little bit straighter. "It's warmer here today."

Harry was slightly startled by the sudden change in topic. "The Dementors backed off today, so I could talk to you."

"It's nice."

The pair sat in silence for a few seconds, studying each other.

"Pronglet," Sirius finally said.

"What did you call me?"

"Pronglet. I always called you that when you were little."

"I don't remember."

Sirius leaned against his bed, reminiscing. "I used to baby-sit for you whenever your parents were at work. Did you know that your first word was Paddy?"

"No, no I didn't."

"You used to love when I would come over. We'd spend hours together. You were my little Pronglet. Do you play Quidditch?"

Harry was quickly becoming used to Sirius' choppy way of speaking. "I do. Seeker."

"And are you a Gryffindor?"

"Er ... sort of."

"Do you live with Remus?"

Harry's thoughts flashed to the past couple of weeks at Grimmauld place. "I do now."

"That's good. I had hoped that was where you ended up. Dumbledore wouldn't tell me where he sent you." Harry clenched his teeth. "I am sorry, Pronglet."

"What for?"

"For not being there for you while you were growing up. I just wish that things could have been different."

Water welled up in Harry's eyes and he reached forward to pull his godfather in a hug. Sirius seemed stiff at first, but slowly relaxed into it. "No, I'm sorry, Sirius. It's all my fault. If I hadn't gone there, if I had just listened to Hermione, everything would have been fine, but ... "

"Harry, what on Earth are you talking about?" Sirius asked, patting and rubbing Harry's back, but Harry just kept on sobbing. When the tears subsided, Sirius held Harry put at arms' length. "Hey, kiddo, whatever it is you feel guilty about, it is not your fault. Alright?" He raised a shaking hand to wipe a tear away from Harry's face. "I love you, Pronglet."

"I ... I love you, too, Sirius." Although he had never said these words before they felt right on his tongue. They embraced again.

"Time is up!" The knock on the door sent the two apart. Harry reluctantly stood.

"Don't look so down," Sirius said. "I promise, we will see each other again."

"We will."

"Good-bye, Pronglet."

"Good-bye."


	12. Chapter Twelve

_**Chapter Twelve**_

"Are you feeling any better today, Zach?" Lelia paused, expecting an answer. "Zach?" she asked again. Exasperated, she tried again. "Earth to Zachary Harrison."

"Hmm?" Harry said dumbly. He _still_ wasn't used to answering to the name Zach. "What was that?"

Lelia patted his arm, a concerned look on her face. "I asked how you were feeling."

"I'm fine," he answered shortly.

"Are you sure? I mean, it's just that … "

"You really haven't been quite the same since you left," Lex added when Lelia struggled for the right words.

"It's nothing," he assured. "Really."

But he was lying. Ever since his trip to Azkaban three days prior, he could not get the thought of Sirius off his mind. Sirius, rotting away in the tiny tomb. Sirius, who was innocent and should be free. Sirius, who was going to finally escape his bonds only to have to live a half-life on the run.

Sirius, who was going to die. Another death that would be Harry's fault.

It was more than Harry could bear.

"Were you that close to your grandmother?" Lelia asked cautiously.

Harry's mind flashed to memories of Sirius: seeing him for the first time in the Shrieking Shack, knowing that he was living in a cage and eating rats just to be near the godson he loved, singing Christmas carols loudly and badly this past holiday. And he thought of all that he never knew, what he never had a chance to know.

"Not that well," he replied, swallowing the bile rising in his throat. "But she… she was still my grandmother, you know?"

His friends nodded sympathetically, but they didn't know.

They had no idea.

* * *

The next morning, Harry pushed his scrambled eggs around the plate with a fork. He didn't want to eat. What gave him the right to eat when Sirius was starving himself to bones? Nothing did.

The door of the Great Hall banged open, shaking him from his morbid thoughts. Harry glanced over quickly, whipping his head back around for another look.

A tall, heavyset woman stormed into the room, managing to look intimidating and kindly all at once. She had deep brown hair that was pulled onto the top of her head and away from her face, revealing the many wrinkles set into her skin throughout, proclaiming her many years alive. Her eyes were a dark blue and they shone with an authoritative glow.

"Look, Minister Bagnold is back!" Lelia whispered.

"That's your Minister of Magic?" Becker asked excitedly. "Ooooh, I've read so much about her! She's supposed to be one of the greatest ministers Britain has ever had!"

Harry surveyed this woman with a new respect in his eyes. Now _this_ was a person that he could believe would be able to lead their country through a war. Unlike that bumbling fool Fudge who was in charge now.

And speak of the devil.

Cornelius Fudge, future Minister of Magic and all-around-idiot strolled into the room behind her. He surveyed the assembly with arrogance only one who had nothing to boast about could generate. Crouch followed shortly after him, only barely managing to disguise the disfavor in his eyes when he looked at Fudge.

'_This is probably going to be the first and only time I want to take sides with Crouch'_ Harry thought.

Minister Bagnold stopped next to the Head Table and leaned in close to say something to Dumbledore. Although the Professor stayed calm and collected, McGonagall, who was seated at his side, paled. She had obviously heard the whispered message and it was not good news.

Dumbledore slowly stood from his seat, and escorted the Minister and her entourage from the room, presumably to discuss whatever new development had occurred.

McGonagall cleared her throat. "Tonight's festivities for the Convention have been postponed until further notice," she announced and was met with groans from the students. This meant a full day of classes for them. "Would you all please head to your first lessons of the day? Thank you."

"I wonder what could be so important that it would cancel tonight's events," Lex wondered aloud. "They have been planning this celebration for months."

"I'll bet anything it has to do with those attacks that have been occurring," said Lelia, and she shivered. "I hope they figured out who is doing them soon. It's almost like…" She trailed off.

Lex put his hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry. He is gone and there is no way He is coming back."

'_That is where you are wrong,'_ Harry thought sorrowfully. _'I wish that you weren't, but you are wrong. He is back.'_ He looked towards the memorial on the wall. _'And I'm the only one who can do anything about it.'_

_

* * *

_

Severus Snape kept his eyes fixed on the Slytherin Table all through breakfast. There was something bothering Harrison. He watched as the boy stared off into space, a look of sorrow permanently etched into his face.

That is, until the Minister entered.

Severus had been too far down the table to hear what had happened, but from the look on his co-worker's face, he knew that it could not have been good. Harrison's face changed as he observed this scene. And it hit Snape like a Stunning Charm.

Harrison _knew._ Severus didn't know how or why, but Harrison knew what had happened, he knew something that the rest of them did not.

The look in the child's face changed into something akin to determination as he headed off for his first class.

Potions.

Severus had to figure out a way to reveal what Harrison knew. He wasn't a Slytherin for nothing, so it should not be too hard for him. However, there was something different about this student. Something that Severus could not put his finger on.

This would be a challenge. But it would be a challenge he had to take.

After all, Severus didn't like not knowing what was going on in his own House.

* * *

"I need someone to take this note up to Professor Dumbledore's office," Severus announced to the class. Harry's hand immediately snapped up, just like he had known it would. "Alright, Harrison. Do you know where it is?"

"Yes, sir," Harrison intoned.

Severus briefly saw Miss Williams mouth, "You really want to get out of class," before Harrison stood up and walked to the Professor's desk. Severus handed him the parchment that was highly warded against peering eyes and waved him out of the classroom.

"Password is 'Sugar Quills'," he called after him.

He smirked to himself, scaring several Gryffindors seated at the front of the class. That was almost too easy.

* * *

'_Honestly, how daft does he think I am?'_ Harry thought snidely to himself as he followed to familiar path up to the Headmaster's office. He knew the Potion's Professor was up to something. He wasn't sure what it was yet, but Snape was up to _something_. That was all that mattered, really. He knew, and as such, was prepared.

Slytherins always had second motives up their sleeves.

Reaching the gargoyle, Harry muttered the password and stepped onto the rotating stone staircase. As he reached the door, muffled voice could be heard through the wood. Harry stopped and listened.

"This is getting outrageous!" Crouch yelled. "We have to put a stop to these attacks!"

"I agree with your enthusiasm for protecting the people, Bartimus," said Dumbledore smoothly. "But your tactics are a little overzealous."

"Putting everyone we even suspect of the Dark Arts away will not solve anything," Minister Bagnold agreed. "We would have no way of knowing if these people are innocent."

"Anyone who even has the slightest chance of practicing the Dark Arts is guilty," said Crouch firmly.

"I agree," said Fudge pompously. "Anyone Dark Arts Practitioner should be labeled a traitor and condemned to Azkaban."

Harry clenched his fists tightly, his nails almost cutting into the skin of his palms.

"I don't think everyone agrees with that, Fudge," said a very familiar voice and if Harry hadn't been so furious he would have panicked.

"What do you mean?" asked Fudge, confused.

"Well, there is a young man waiting just outside this office door who doesn't seem to share your views."

The door swung open and three incredulous faces looked down at Harry. He calmly strode into the room and dropped the note on Dumbledore's desk.

"Professor Snape wanted me to deliver that to you," he stated bluntly and turned back to the other occupants of the room. A much younger, but still as scarred as usual Moody sat in an armchair near the fireplace.

"You seemed quite angry by what young Fudge here was saying," Moody said conversationally, cutting right to the point. "Any particular reason?"

"I just don't think it is right for you to send an innocent man into a place like Azkaban," Harry answered stiffly, resisting the urge to punch Fudge in the face.

"As I said, if he is casting Dark spells, then he is not innocent."

"Not all Dark spells are used to harm people," he shot back.

Fudge looked pointedly at Harry's robes, which proudly displayed the crest of Slytherin. "It doesn't surprise me that you would say that."

Harry saw red. "Just because I am in Slytherin doesn't mean I am evil. I know plenty of Slytherins who work on the side of Light and plenty of Gryffindors that wouldn't hesitate to slit your throat when your back is turned."

Fudge opened his mouth to angrily reply, but Dumbledore cut him off. "That is enough. Mr. Harrison, would you please return to class. We have a meeting to attend to."

"I think I had better accompany our young friend here back to class before he starts preaching to his fellow students about the beauty of the Unforgivables," Moody sneered and lead Harry out of the office by his arm.

The pair walked in silence down the hall, Harry sadistically contemplating revenge on Fudge, most involving spells that wouldn't prove the Dark Arts aren't all for hurting others. Suddenly, Moody grabbed his robe sleeve and pulled him into a nearby classroom.

"Alright," he said, pushing Harry against the wall. Hard. "No bullshit. Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?"

"What?" Harry gasped, wincing against the pain in his back.

"There is something that isn't right about you, Harrison. Now tell me what the fuck it is."

Harry let a slow smirk spread across his face, the same look he knew irritated the man to no end. "I could never get much past you, Mad-Eye."

Moody snarled. "I don't have the patience for mind games."

"It's a long story."

"I've got time. Talk."

And so he did.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

_**Chapter Thirteen**_

_Previous Chapter: "Alright," he said, pushing Harry against the wall. Hard. "No bullshit. Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?"_

"_What?" Harry gasped, wincing against the pain in his back._

"_There is something that isn't right about you, Harrison. Now tell me what the fuck it is."_

_Harry let a slow smirk spread across his face, the same look he knew irritated the man to no end. "I could never get much past you, Mad-Eye."_

_Moody snarled. "I don't have the patience for mind games."_

"_It's a long story."_

"_I've got time. Talk."_

_And so he did._

Or at least he was about to when he was rudely interrupted by McGonagall's voice magically echoing throughout the castle.

"Everyone please report to the Great Hall immediately. Thank you."

Both Mad-Eye and Harry glanced at the ceiling as if McGonagall herself was perched above their heads before taking off for the door.

"This isn't over," Mad-Eye warned Harry, who was easily matching the Auror's long strides. Harry noted absently that both of Mad-Eye's legs were still attached; he wondered how long it would be before he lost one. "We will be talking later, Harrison."

"Looking forward to it," Harry muttered as they entered the Great Hall. Harry made a beeline for the Slytherin table, only to find a nervous looking Lelia and Lex waiting for him. "What's going on?" Harry asked immediately.

"I don't know," Lelia asked, chewing on a piece of her long hair. "But it can't be good. I've never seen the Professors look so worried."

It was true; several of the teachers were seated at the High Table, all looking very worn down. The students and guests were shooting them apprehensive looks. There were a few noticeable absences, however. Most noticeably, Dumbledore and the Minister were still not back from their meeting.

Professor McGonagall stood on a platform in front of the room, wand pointed at her throat to cast the Sonorous Charm. "Attention please," she announced and the audience fell silent. "We will be asking you all to remain inside the Hall for the time being. Heads of Houses will now be taking down names of students who are missing. If any of your fellow students are gone, please inform your Head of House right away."

Several moments later, Jabez and Becker arrived and Snape checked off that they were all present. Then the waiting began.

"What could be happening?" Becker asked, looking fearful, after only forty-five minutes of being locked in the Great Hall. "Do you think there's been another attack?" Jabez put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sure everything is fine," Lex said confidently, but with a troubled look on his face as well. "Right, Zach?"

"I don't know," he replied honestly, staring intently at the Head Table. "I just don't know."

* * *

_22 August 1996_

Hermione knocked hesitantly on the door frame of the study in Twelve Grimmauld Place. "Headmaster?" she called. Dumbledore looked up from his parchment and motioned for the girl to come in. She closed the door behind her and tentatively took a step closer to the desk.

"Anything I can assist you with, Miss Granger?"

"Is there any word on Harry yet?" she asked, biting her lip.

Dumbledore sighed and sadly shook her head. "All we know so far is that Harry disappeared from the Leaky Cauldron at the same time the Voldemort and his inner circle vanished," he responded, being uncharacteristically blunt. "Other than that …"

"Is he going to be okay?" she asked timidly. "Wherever he is?"

"I hope so, Miss Granger. I do hope so."

"It's not fair," she cried, wiping a tear away furiously. "I didn't even get to say good-bye to him! And now I may never see-" She stopped herself. Dumbledore's heart clenched painfully as he watched the girl trying to get herself under control.

"It is all right to cry," he said simply, offering her a slightly crumpled handkerchief. "Everybody does sometimes."

"It didn't work," she said suddenly, looking imploringly at the Headmaster. "I tried to distance myself from Harry, like you said. But it didn't work right. I made a mistake; I said something I shouldn't have. And, even if … if Harry comes back, he will never forgive me for it. He hates me." She started sobbing openly, deep shudders racking her frame.

It had been one of the hardest decisions Dumbledore had made regarding Harry when he had asked Hermione and Ronald to distance themselves from the boy. But he knew that they would prove to be weaknesses in the coming months. The Dark Lord was sure to target them specifically to hurt Harry, as he had done with Sirius, and he did not want to put his students in danger like that, let alone have Harry suffer that kind of anguish again. The pair had done as he asked, though unwillingly and fighting the whole way, but they had eventually conceded, realizing that it would help Harry in the long run. Dumbledore had promised that they would be able to regain their friendship with Harry in several months, after there was no longer any suspicion that the three were still best friends.

But there was one factor the Headmaster had forgotten to take into account: Miss Ginny Weasley. Harry had befriended her this summer, almost instantly becoming as close to her as he had been to Hermione and Ronald. And Miss Weasley had proven to be more tenacious than Dumbledore had known and was not likely to abandon Harry anytime soon.

Gazing at the bawling girl in front of him, Dumbledore thought he might have made another unforgivable mistake regarding Harry Potter.

* * *

_7 November 1986_

Dumbledore shuffled into the Hall, looking exhausted and resigned. The quiet conversations around the room stopped and everyone turned their attention to the aging Headmaster. This is what they had all been waiting for, why they had been trapped in this room for three hours. The suspense was unbearable.

He stood tall on the platform, his solemn face already telling the crowd this was _not,_ by any means, good news. He took a deep breath and began his address.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, it is my grave duty to inform you that we are now aware of who is behind the attacks that have been plaguing our countries for the last couple of weeks. As some of you might be aware, the Department of Mysteries of the British Ministry monitors all incidents that affect the space time continuum in order to regulate the use of time turners in the area." Puzzled murmurings met this proclamation and Harry gripped the table in front of him so tightly his knuckles turned as white as his face. Jabez shot him a questioning look. "This morning, they reported an undocumented rip in the fabric of time that occurred approximately one week ago. They determined that the origin of this occurrence was the year 1996. When we considered our knowledge of this unaccounted time-traveling hitch and the eyewitness accounts from some of the scenes of the attacks, we could only come to one conclusion." He paused, considering his next words carefully. "Lord Voldemort has returned and he has traveled back to 1985."

Sharp intakes of breath and cries met this eerie announcement.

"Due to this, we are canceling the remaining events for the Convention. You are, however, welcome to remain in Hogwarts while there is still a threat in our world.

"And I would like to remind you, that now, more than ever, the principles we came together to celebrate this week are important. We need to remain together during our troubles and stand strong against our common enemies. Together, we will triumph." With that, he left the Hall, followed close behind by the Ministers of the various countries.

Complete pandemonium was left in his wake.

* * *

Severus Snape stared in horror at the door the Headmaster had just past through, sitting in shocked silence despite the uproar that was occurring around him.

_He couldn't have possible just said that. There was no way – NO WAY – that the Dark Lord was here. It can't be true. It just can't. How – _

Abruptly, Snape whipped his head around to stare at his House. They were reacting to this sudden news just as bad as the rest of the Hall, despite some of them being closely affiliated with the Dark Lord. There were children openly weeping, some muttering angrily to their neighbors, some frozen in shocked terror. Except for one.

Zachary Harrison sat calmly in his chair, staring down at his hands with a blank look on his face, detached from the chaos the news had brought.

_This is what he knew,_ Snape realized with dawning amazement. _Somehow he knew the Dark Lord was behind the attacks. _Looking around, he noticed Alastor Moody watching Harrison just as intently.

_It's about time I got to the bottom of this_. He stood up and started advancing towards the table. He stopped in his tracks, however, when Harrison swiftly stood.

* * *

_I've got to get out of here_, Harry thought urgently, his body starting to leave before his mind even processed that thought. He left unnoticed, everyone else too busy with their own problems to be aware of his escape.

Unwillingly, Harry's feet traced their way towards Dumbledore's office. He didn't make it that far though, when he heard voices from a nearby classroom.

"What are we going to do about the boy, Albus?" he heard Minister Bagnold ask. "He will need better protection now that …"

"I am aware of that, Millicent," Dumbledore answered calmly.

"He will certainly be targeted."

"Don't worry about him," he assured her.

"Where else would you keep something that needs to be protected?" said an unrecognizable male voice. "He should be fine here."

"You're going to bring-"

Harry brushed past the room, not wanting to hear more. His head was throbbing; Voldemort was already aware of the upheaval he was causing and it thrilled him greatly.

He wandered around the school for the next several hours, deep in thought, until he found himself back at the Hall, just in time for dinner. Entering, he noted that very few people seemed to have left Hogwarts. This didn't surprise him; Hogwarts was supposed to be one of the safest places on the continent.

Silently, Harry sidled in to his normal seat at the Slytherin table. Nobody reacted to his arrival; they were all staring up at the Head table with wonderment. Harry was puzzled until he followed their gazes.

Seated next to the Headmaster was a small boy, looking at the enchanted ceiling in giddy amazement. He had scraggly black hair and bright, innocent green eyes. Harry's heart sank the moment he laid eyes on him.

Harry Potter had come to Hogwarts.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Author's Note: No, I have not abandoned this story. I simply do not have the time to update frequently at the moment. Things seem to be dieing down, so hopefully I will have more time soon. Plus, summer vacation is quickly approaching and then I willbe able to update whenever I want.**

**Much thanks to Xirleb70 for beta-ing.**

_**Chapter Fourteen**_

_Previous Chapter: Silently, Harry sidled in to his normal seat at the Slytherin table. Nobody reacted to his arrival; they were all staring up at the Head table with wonderment. Harry was puzzled until he followed their gazes._

_Seated next to the Headmaster was a small boy, looking at the enchanted ceiling in giddy amazement. He had scraggly black hair and bright, innocent green eyes. Harry's heart sank the moment he laid eyes on him._

_Harry Potter had come to Hogwarts._

"Harry Potter? _The_ Harry Potter?"

"He looks so small."

"Can you see his scar?"

Harry sat in a daze, staring up at himself and flashing back to the moment he first set foot into Hogwarts. _Well,_ said a snide voice in the back of his head,sounding surprisingly reasonable despite the cloudy thoughts filling his head, _technically it was your second time at Hogwarts, now wasn't it? _Harry resisted the urge to shake his head violently in an attempt to dislodge the voice. How else would you fight an invisible opponent that was inside your-?

_Alright, stay on track, Harry. You need to get a grip on yourself. Play it cool._

"Can you believe it?" gushed Becker. "_The_ **_real_** Harry Potter is sitting _right_ **_there_**!"

Harry took a controlled breath. "What is he doing here?" he asked in a slightly strangled voice. Harry mentally slapped himself. _Way to sound calm, Potter._

Jabez shot him a strange look as he noted his tone. "Isn't it obvious?" He dropped his voice until it was nearly inaudible. "With You-Know-Who running around, it can't be safe for him to stay with the Muggles, now can it?"

_When has that ever kept them from leaving me there before?_ Harry thought cynically, biting back the sneer that threatened to overtake his face.

"I think they may have already gotten to him there," whispered Lelia conspiringly. Harry snapped his neck over to look at her.

"What do you mean?" asked Lex.

"Well," she continued, her voice going even softer, "I was in the entry hall when they brought him in. He had am ugly bruise across the side of his face. The Headmaster took him straight up to Madame Pomphrey."

"Poor kid," said Becker sympathetically. "It must be horrible having to face Death Eaters like that."

Harry glanced up at his younger self, before staring steadfastly at the table. "Yeah," he agreed quietly. "Poor kid."

* * *

The rest of the day staggered on, digging its heels into the dirt and protesting the trip the whole way. Tension filled the air of the school as everyone went on their guard; no one knew who to trust or who to fear. The unwelcome news that the Dark Lord had returned forced everyone to be suspicious.

Harry sat in the Slytherin Common room, legs slung over the edge of the chair. His Charms book rested in his lap, but he wasn't studying; he instead focused intently upon the dancing flames in the fire, a look of utter concentration on his face.

His contemplation was broken when Lelia noisily stormed into the common room.

"I cannot believe it!" She said with her teeth gritted together. Everyone in the common room immediately gave her their full attention.

"What's going on?" someone called out and the room quieted down to hear her answer.

She flopped down onto a couch and slouched into the cushions wearily. "I was supposed to be meeting Nymphadora Tonks up in the library to copy the Transfiguration notes I missed the other day. We were sitting over by the window…

"_The incantation needs a specific flick of the wrist to be successful," Tonks added as Lelia diligently copy down the work. "First, you must-"_

"_Shhh!" said Lelia suddenly. "Did you hear that?" A slight sniffling was coming from behind the bookcase to their right. With a mischievous grin on her face, Tonks tiptoed over to the self and shifted some of the books for a better view._

_Professor McGonagall had her arm wrapped around a… sobbing Professor Sprout?_

"_It's going to be alright, Pomona," comforted McGonagall gently. "He's out of there."_

"_I know," she cried, "but I can't believe we left him there, for all these years. Who knows what they've done to him?"_

"_Pom-"_

"_And how dare they! Their own flesh and blood! If Lily and James knew…"_

"_Harry's a strong boy. He's going to get through this," McGonagall explained patiently, but her own hands clenched into tight fists as Sprout spoke. "He's here now, where he will be taken care of."_

"_Bloody Muggles. If I get my hands on them, I'll give them ten times worse than what they've done to Harry."_

"_You and me both."_

_Slowly, the girls pulled back from the bookshelf, identical looks of shock etched in their faces._

"Are you saying," Lex began slowly, a look of anger in his eyes, "that Harry Potter's relatives abused him?"

Lelia nodded sadly. "That's where the bruise came from. The one I saw on his face."

"Those nasty bleedin' Muggles!" shouted a seventh year boy who Harry knew was prone to soap-box speeches. "Do you see what they do? One of the most powerful wizards in our world and they treat him like dirt! Acts like this are what make me think that maybe we _should_ be wiping them out!" He got several cheers of agreement.

Harry continued to stare into the fire, unmoved by the calamity around him.

* * *

News of what had happened to Harry at the hands of the Dursley's quickly spread throughout the school and was common knowledge by the next morning. The young boy received looks of pity wherever he went and was now accompanied by a tenacious Nymphadora Tonks, who insisted on watching over him and who attempted hexes on people who got too close. Rumors of the horrors Harry had endured were growing almost as fanciful as the speculation of what the Dark Lord was up to. He hadn't made a move since the attack on the Muggle village and the silence was taking its toll on the country's nerves.

And the elder Harry Potter was heartily sick of 1986.

He trudged down the corridor sullenly, not wanting to attend dinner where he knew everyone would be discussing his two least favorite subjects: Voldemort and himself. He pondered doing more research on how to escape this horrible decade, but he had no idea where to even begin looking. _Maybe it would be better to leave the research to Remus – _

An arm reached out from the side of the hallway and pulled him into an empty classroom. Immediately, he raised his wand at his captor, a curse on his tongue.

Professor Snape gazed skeptically back at him. "Put that away, Harrison, before you poke someone's eye out and end up in even more trouble."

"I'm so sorry," Harry intoned sarcastically, "that I react badly to people pulling me into dark class– did you say _more_ trouble?" Snape nodded. "I hadn't been aware that I was in any trouble to begin with."

"Don't be idiotic, Harrison. You're a Slytherin, show some intelligence. I know Moody already confronted you once."

Harry's heartbeat quickened slightly, but outwardly he only raised an eyebrow. "Could you please get to your point?"

"My point," Snape growled, "is that Moody knows exactly what I know about you: that you were aware of the Dark Lord's return before any of us. Do you deny that?"

Harry gazed at him in stony silence.

"I could say that I do not wish to know how you knew this information, but that would be a lie. However, we do not have the time for explanations. Moody got tired of waiting for you to confess your involvement in the situation and has decided to report his suspicions to the Minister."

"When?" he asked, slightly panicky.

"Right now." Snape fixed him with a look that plainly told him if he had anything to do with Voldemort's activities, he'd better admit to it now. Harry opened his mouth, desperate to say something, anything, that would help–

"Would Zachary Harrison please report to the Great Hall? Now," a voice boomed imperiously through the halls. Harry blanched.

"Fuck."

"A word of advice," Snape said softly, an uncharacteristic look of compassion in his eyes. "The Wizarding world has faced some horrifying revelations in the past few days. They are out looking for blood. That crest on your robe has already convicted you in most of their eyes. So you better have a damn good explanation."

* * *

Harry took a deep breath as he stood outside the imposing doors of the Great Hall. He steeled his resolve, gaining confidence from the knowledge that he was not at fault, and entered.

The room that had given him a feeling of home on many occasions now looked dark and foreboding. The entire population of Hogwarts stared back on him; some with looks of revulsions on their faces, some simply curious. Remus shot him a feeble, but almost encouraging smile from his seat.

Harry set his features into an innocent, quizzical expression. "Is there something you wanted, Headmaster?" he asked, puzzled.

"Yes, Mr. Harrison," he began gravely. "There are some concerns that need to be discussed with you. Please, have a seat." He indicated a small chair placed directly in front of the Head Table, vaguely reminiscent of the Wizengamot. Harry ambled his way over to the solitary chair. It looked as lonely as he felt at the moment.

Harry slowly took at seat. "Am I in trouble, Headmaster?"

"No, no, my boy, we are simply clearing up some-"

"Enough with the pleasantries, Albus," Crouch barked. He glared at Harry menacingly, but despite the venom in the gaze he was faced with, the teen gazed back impassively. "What do you know about the return of You-Know-Who?"

"I don't," Harry answered plainly.

"You don't what?" Crouch shouted, spittle flying from his mouth.

"I don't know _who_."

Crouch growled. "Don't play games with me, Harrison. You know who I am talking about."

"Who are you talking about?" Harry inquired mildly.

"You-know-who!"

"But I _don't_ know who… I thought we had established that?" Harry quipped, tilting his head innocently to the side.

"The Dark Lord," he said, jaw clenched together.

"Oh, why didn't you say so in the first place?"

"I did!"

"Calm down, no reason to lose your temper," Harry said soothingly. Behind him, he heard Snape let out a slight chuckle. "Now, what was the question?"

"What. Do. You. Know. About. The. Return. Of. The. Dark. Lord?" Crouch bit out impatiently.

"What do I know about Voldemort?" There was a hiss of air being sucked in from all corners of the room.

"Don't say that name!" Crouch yelled, flinching violently.

"What, Voldemort?" he asked, eyes opening wide. Another flinch from the crowd.

Harry observed, with no little amount of amusement, that Crouch's left eye twitched when he said Voldemort.

"Yes! That."

"Why not?"

"What?"

"Why shouldn't I say … Voldemort?" Flinch. Another twitch from Crouch. Harry fought an indecent grin of hilarity.

"_Because_ it just isn't done!"

Harry shrugged. "Fear of the name increases fear of the thing itself. That's what I was always taught."

"Trust me, Mr. Harrison, that if you ever came face to face with this monster, you would be too afraid to speak his name as well."

Harry raised a disinterested eyebrow and laid all his cards on the table. "Who says I haven't?" There was a gasp from the gathered crowd.

"What did you just say?" Crouch asked, disbelievingly.

"I said, who says I haven't." Harry smirked. There was no use trying to prove his innocence to this group; in the court of public opinion, he had already lost. "You're so eager to prove that I work for Voldemort somehow. Wouldn't it be assumed that if I was part of his ranks that I would have seen him before?"

"Of course," said Crouch, quickly jumping on this opportunity. "I just did not believe that you would confess so easily."

"I'm not confessing to anything, Mr. Crouch." Harry said pleasantly. "I'm merely stating that, for your theory to hold true, I would have already come, as you said 'face to face' with Voldemort, and would therefore have the right to say his name as much as I wished."

Crouch sputtered, but his reply was cut off by the doors to the Hall opening once again, this time admitting a baffled Tonks. "Excuse me… am I interrupting something?" she asked timidly under the stares of the entire Hall.

"Not at all, Miss Tonks," Dumbledore said jovially, in stark contrast to the severity of the matter being discussed. "Did everything go well?"

"Yes, sir," she answered. "Harry's upstairs sleeping."

"Good, good." Dumbledore twittered cheerily.

"How is the poor dear doing?" a middle-aged woman seated to Harry's right couldn't help but ask.

Tonks gave a strained smile. "He's doing better. I think the longer he is away from his… _relatives_… the better he will be." She looked imploringly at the Headmaster. "He's going to be staying here for a while, right? I think he really enjoys the castle."

The chorus of overwhelmingly female "awww's" across the room was punctuated by Harry's uncontrollable desire to snort. Loudly.

"Did you have something to say?" Crouch asked sarcastically.

"Nothing much," Harry said causally. "It just surprises me that no one here has put two and two together yet."

"What do you mean?" Tonks questioned, her forehead scrunching in confusion.

"In this particular case of time travel, the timeline will eventually work its way back to its original state and no one will be aware of the differentiation. Am I correct?" He directed the last part at the Headmaster, who had a dawning look of horror in his eyes. "Harry Potter was brought here under circumstances that are solely due to the change in the time stream. So when all events eventually go back to their rightful order…"

"Harry will go back to his relatives and none of us will ever remember him being here," Tonks whispered, voice laced with dismay.

"Exactly."

"But… but… there is always the chance of someone rescuing him later, right?" she asked, faintly hysterical. "It's possible that the natural timeline involves us coming to get him soon anyway, right?"

"But it doesn't." Harry stated bluntly, smiling sadly at Tonks.

"How do you know that? You can't know that for sure."

"Yes, I can. And I do." Harry sighed, standing up slowly from his chair, looking around the room at the bewildered faces. "Harry Potter never leaves his relatives house before starting Hogwarts. I know this because I lied to you all. I was never home schooled… I started my schooling at Hogwarts in 1991. I knew about Voldemort being back because it already happened for me."

He sat back down in his chair, reclining with his arms behind his head and his legs stretched out in front of him lazily. "I don't know how and I don't know why, but when Voldemort came back in time, I came with him. And I _really_ want to go back to 1996," he added for emphasis, enjoying the looks of pure shock plastered on every face in the room.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**A/N: Thanks to Xirb for the first thing in this chapter. I can't tell you what happens yet, but it was her idea.**

_**Chapter Fifteen**_

_Previous Chapter: "Yes, I can. And I do." Harry sighed, standing up slowly from his chair, looking around the room at the bewildered faces. "Harry Potter never leaves his relatives house before starting Hogwarts. I know this because I lied to you all. I was never home schooled… I started my schooling at Hogwarts in 1991. I knew about Voldemort being back because it already happened for me." _

_He sat back down in his chair, reclining with his arms behind his head and his legs stretched out in front of him lazily. "I don't know how and I don't know why, but when Voldemort came back in time, I came with him. And I really want to go back to 1996," he added for emphasis, enjoying the looks of pure shock plastered on every face in the room._

There was total silence before chaos broke out.

Harry tilted his chair back on its legs, the way his Year Three teacher in Primary School always screeched at him for doing. "_Keep your chair firmly planted on the floor, Mr. Potter!"_ she would shriek. He tilted back a bit further, smiling viciously at the memory. _'How do you like **this**, Miss Barnegat-'_ With a sickening crack, Harry slammed into the stone floor, the legs of the chair sliding out beneath him.

The silence returned as everyone stared at the-boy-who-had-just-dropped-a-bombshell-on-them.

"Arrest him!" Crouch cried hoarsely, raising a wand to point at Harry's crumpled form. Without hesitation, several Aurors jumped to his command and raced over to the disoriented teen.

Harry gazed up at the approaching men blearily. "For what? Improper Chair Decorum?" He rubbed his bruised head and winced. "I _knew_ I should have paid attention in Primary School."

A short, burly man hoisted him up roughly by his shoulders. "By Order of the Ministry of Magic and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, you, Zachary Harrison, are under arrest."

"But I didn't do anything!" The man gave a disbelieving snort and muttered something. Thick metal bands encircled Harry's wrists and tightened painfully. He glared angrily at the smirking Crouch. "What are the charges?"

"Aiding and allying with Death Eaters," Crouch said smugly.

Harry struggled as the Aurors pulled his towards the door of the Hall. "But I haven't done anything! You don't have any proof!"

"I don't need to. You pose a threat to this convention, Harrison. It's my duty to protect the people attending it." He thrust his chin into the air self-righteously and gazed valiantly at the masses. If this situation wasn't threatening to land him in Azkaban, Harry would have laughed out loud at the absurdity of it all.

"So that's it!" he yelled, eyes scanning the masses for at least one welcoming face. "Guilty until proven innocent?" Remus stood up from his spot at the table, looking distressed. Harry shook his head slightly; he didn't want Remus to get involved. He'd never be able to live with himself if the older man was harmed.

Harry dug his heels into the ground, protesting as they tried to extract him from the room. "Come on, kid," the Auror whispered. "Don't make this difficult on yourself."

His eyes widened, resting on Crouch's look of triumph, as he got further and further away from the Head Table. He had to think of something. And fast.

"Sanctuary!" he blurted out suddenly.

"What?" Crouch bit out impatiently.

"Sanctuary!" he shouted with all his might. "Sanctuary!"

"What are you blathering on about now, Harrison?"

"In medieval times, accused criminals were given the right to prepare their defense as long as they remained in a certain place, such as a church. They fled there and were provided with asylum," he explained hurriedly.

Crouch regarded him critically. "Even if I believed you were _persecuted_," he said sarcastically, "there is one flaw to your plan. You are not in a church."

"This is a boarding school," he said, grasping for some shred of hope. "There must have been at least a few students who practice a form of religion before they came here and wished to continue while they were away from home."

"He's right!" Remus spoke up eagerly, wanting to help in some way. "There's an old church on the second floor. It hasn't been in use since 1789, but–"

"But it's still a church!" Harry finished enthusiastically. "Sanctuary! Sanctuary!"

"Shut up, Harrison!" Crouch barked and wheeled on Remus. "Who traditionally performed the services in that church, Lupin?"

"Er … the Headmaster, I believe."

"Then, as the leader of the establishment, it is the Headmaster who would decide if the right of sanctuary is to be enacted, am I correct?"

"Well, yes …"

Crouch turned to Dumbledore, who had been noticeably silent during the proceedings. "Well, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore turned his eerie blue gaze on to the bound teen. "Mr. Harrison," he began and Harry shuddered at the bland tone. "I am reluctant to cast judgment on a person with no evidence, like our present tribulation. However, since beginning your education here, you have done nothing but lie to everyone. I am not sure I can allow you and your dishonesty to remain in this institution and be at peace in my mind."

"No!" Harry finally broke away from the Aurors restraining him. "Please, Dumbledore! Please! You have got to let me stay! Please!"

Dumbledore looked down his long nose impassively. "I am truly sorry, Mr. Harrison."

Harry's mouth opened in despair and he fell to his knees in front of the table.

"Get him," Crouch ordered, smiling nastily. "We'll bring up some Dementors from the Island to watch over him tonight."

"Wait." Harry's calm, cold voice brought the advancing Aurors to a halt. He slowly stood up, struggling slightly with his still-tied hands, and looked Dumbledore straight in the eye. "I know I was wrong. I know I shouldn't have lied. But would you have believed me? If I had told you when I first arrived… from that very _moment, _would you have believed that I was from the future? Would you have even listened? I didn't know what else to do! But I swear, I _swear_, on my parents' graves that I am not a Death Eater. And I am begging you to believe me and let me stay."

"We're wasting time," said Crouch, rolling his eyes. "Get him out of here."

"No," Dumbledore declared finally. "He will stay."

Crouch looked incredulous. "Headmaster–" But Dumbledore's raised hand cut him off.

"But," he continued, addressing Harry, "you are on probation. One step out of line and I will be forced to remove you from Hogwarts. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly," Harry said, sighing with relief as the binds encompassing his wrists evaporated.

* * *

Remus walked into his small room, still slightly surprised that Harry had gotten out of trouble so easily. The boy was certainly lucky, that was for sure. He removed the tattered outer cloak he was wearing and reached behind him to shut the door …

… only to find a foot wedged in between the door and frame.

Severus Snape, the owner of that foot, pushed his way into the room and spun around angrily to face Remus.

"What do you know about Zachary Harrison, Lupin?" he spat, clearly disgusted to have to speak the werewolf.

"What do you mean?" Remus inquired lightly, finally shutting the door and moving to sit down on the couch.

"You know what I mean," he ground out impatiently, ticking off reasons on his long fingers. "You've spent a lot of time with him since his arrival and you jumped to help him during the inquisition out there. Why?"

"I know nothing more about him than you do, Severus."

Severus poked a finger into Remus chest sharply, pushing the werewolf farther back into the cushions. "Mark my words: if I find out that you lied to me, Lupin, I will be very unhappy. I do not like it when people know more about my students than I do." With a dramatic billow of his cloak, he was gone.

Remus dusted off his robes and rolled his eyes. "You're going to be unhappy either way," he muttered to the absent Snape. "Trust me."

* * *

The next morning, Harry lay in bed in his new guest bedroom, agonizing whether or not to make an appearance at breakfast. Dumbledore had packed him off to get some rest last night way before any of the Hall had the chance to react to the events. Now, however, they had a full night to let it stir, to let it sink in. He was afraid of the repercussions.

Sighing, he slowly stood up and stretched his arms high above his head. The Headmaster had wanted to talk to him. Maybe if the meeting took long enough, he could skip breakfast altogether …

For today, at least.

He wasn't hiding- no, he was just… making a calculated absence. Of course.

He decided to dress rather unobtrusively, slipping on a pair of worn jeans and a green sweater that resembled the one Mrs. Weasley had knitted him several holidays ago. Gazing in the mirror, Harry let the colored tips of his hair disappear, simply leaving black hair that was slightly shorter and neater than his own.

Luckily, he didn't meet anyone in the halls on his way to Dumbledore's office. Mumbling the password the Headmaster had told him the night before ("Acid Pops") and sluggishly moved up the stairs.

"Come in," the Headmaster greeted cheerfully at his knock. Harry pushed his way into the small office, only to be faced with not only Dumbledore, but a stern looking McGonagall and a murderous looking Snape. "Please, Mr. Harrison," Dumbledore bid, no trace of the smile Harry had heard in his voice present on his face, "have a seat."

Harry obeyed and stared stonily at Dumbledore. He could feel the edge of Legilimency probing at his mind. "I'd very much appreciate if you remained out of my mind," Harry said pleasantly and the Headmaster withdrew with a startled look on his face. "Thank you."

"How…"

Harry smiled thinly. "Anything you want to know you can ask me. I cannot promise I'll answer truthfully, but I will try."

"Don't you think your lying has gotten you into enough trouble?" McGonagall snapped angrily.

He shifted his gaze to the Professor. "I have found that sometimes the truth can get you into more trouble than being dishonest." McGonagall shivered under the intense look.

"Is your name really Zachary Harrison?" Snape asked sharply.

"I told you it was." Harry shrugged.

"That doesn't mean it is."

"You don't even trust us enough to tell us your name?" asked McGonagall softly.

"What reason have you given me to trust you?" Harry asked. "Trust isn't given freely, it's earned. I don't put my trust in people without being fully sure that it won't be broken."

Dumbledore leaned forward slightly, searching Harry's eyes without magic this time. "What happened last time you put your trust in someone, Zachary?"

"My godfather was killed," he replied blankly, not taking his eyes off the Headmaster's.

"I'm sorry."

'_You should be,'_ he thought, but what he said was, "Thanks. It's been difficult. He was the only family I had left."

"How long ago was that?"

"Two months. He was murdered by Death Eaters."

"What about your parents?" McGonagall asked, horrified.

"They were killed when I was little. I barely remember them."

"By Death Eaters," Severus surmised grimly. "Why didn't you tell Crouch that last night? He might have believed you if you told him–"

"He wouldn't have."

The room sank in to a brief silence, the three teachers contemplating the mysterious student before them.

Finally, Dumbledore said, "Well, we must now decide what you are going to do with the remainder of you time here."

"I've been looking for the counter charm that will get me back to 1996," Harry explained, "but I haven't had much luck."

"Unfortunately, neither have we. We do, however, have several Ministry Departments and … an outside organization working on it."

"Did you have Mundungus Fletcher listen around Knockturn Alley yet for news?" Harry asked evenly and Dumbledore looked up piercingly.

"You know about the Order."

"I have some friends associated with it."

"Lupin," Severus said disgustedly. "He knew you were from the future long before anybody else did."

Harry shrugged. "Am I still required to attend classes?" he asked abruptly.

McGonagall and Snape exchanged looks, but Dumbledore answered. "No. Now we know that you are not a student, I see no reason why you would have to attend class. You may stay in the castle as a guest of the Convention."

"Thanks." He stood. "Now, if you don't mind, may I attend breakfast? I'm very hungry."

"Of course. In fact, I'll walk down with you." Harry cursed inwardly; he had been planning on stopping by the kitchen for a meal. Now he would have to face the Great Hall. "You're welcome to eat up at the Head Table with us, unless you wish to find a guest table you'd be more comfortable at."

"No, no, I'll be fine." He matched Dumbledore's stride as they walked to the Hall, followed closely by Snape and McGonagall.

Total silence followed as they entered the Hall. The occupants watched Harry closely, shooting him looks of curiosity and even loathing. Before he could sit at the Head Table, however, he was waved over by a grinning Lelia.

Harry tapped Dumbledore on the shoulder. "I'm going to go sit over with my friends. Is that alright?" Dumbledore looked over to the Slytherin table and, smiling, nodded.

He headed over to the group, sliding in to his usual seat. "Morning, Zach!" Lelia chirruped. "You're looking more socially acceptable today." Harry smirked.

"Except for the earring," Lex commented.

"What can I say?" Harry said, picking up an apple. "Some things never change." He raised an eyebrow at the empty chairs surrounding them. "Where are Jabez and Becker?"

Lelia and Lex shot each other pointed looks and gazed farther down the table. Harry followed their eyes, finally resting on Jabez who sat with some of the other visitors. The boy felt the stare and looked up, meeting Harry's eyes. His face twisted in to an unpleasant grimace and he mouthed, "Traitor." Harry looked away.

"I'm sorry, Zach," Lelia said softly. "He believes what Crouch said."

"What about Becker?"

"She … doesn't know how she feels. But, Zach," she put a hand on his shoulder, "we're sticking by you. We believe you. Slytherin means family to us and we don't turn out backs on family. No matter what." Lex nodded.

Harry smiled. "Thanks."

The next two days flew by, with Harry avoiding the population of the school and the school out looking for blood. Another attack had occurred and everyone was out looking for a scapegoat. Murderous looks trailed him where ever he went and he had to be extra vigilant while traveling through the school alone. Lex and Lelia stayed by his side as much as they could, but as they still had class to attend, there were many moments when Harry was by himself.

On the other side, the research into finding out how to fix the timeline and how it was changed in the first place grew exponentially. Group of experts were continuously traveling through the school, working in the library or holding discussions in the Great Hall. Harry had so far avoided being questioned by the brainy experts, but had finally succumbed to requests that he attend a brainstorming meeting.

It was on his way to the meeting that he was pulled out of the hallway and had a wand pressed against his temple. Again.

"I've got to stop ending up in this situation," he mumbled to himself and sent a kick at the knees of his captor, sending the figure sprawling to the floor. Harry recognized the man as a 7th year Slytherin name Robert who he had never spoken with. Three other stood at edge of the room, watching with interest.

Lex and Lelia immediately burst into the room behind him. "Sorry," Lex said drawing his wand. "We were about to catch up to you when we saw Zambini here try to kidnap you."

Zambini. Harry looked the boy up and down, searching for traces of his future classmate. They had the same eyes. "Zambini, eh? Say hi to Blaise for me."

Robert bristled at the mention of his younger brother and Lelia put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Come on, Zach. Let's just go."

"Stay out of this, Williams," growled Robert. "What would Daddy say if he knew you were protecting a blood traitor?" Lelia bared her teeth and started forward, only to be pulled back by Lex.

"Calm down," he whispered in her ear. "He's not worth it." Letting go of his friend, Lex gave the 7th years a haughty look. "We're going to be late if we don't leave now."

Out in the hall, Harry turned to Lelia. "What was that about?"

She sighed and leaned on the wall, closing her eyes. Lex remained silent, but gave her a compassionate look. "What do you know about my family, Zach?" she asked, not opening her eyes.

He gave her a confused glance. "Not a thing. Why?"

"The Williams are an old pureblood family," she explained. "Their views on wizarding life are the same as the Zambinis … or the Malfoys."

"Oh."

"You understand now?"

"What would you father think of you helping me?" he asked softly.

"He'd probably disown me," she stated bitterly. "But I've never cared much about what my father thinks." She straightened up. "Now, we've got a meeting to get to."

"I'm glad you could finally join us, Mr. Harrison," a tall balding man greeted as they entered the Hall. "I've been looking forward to what you have to offer to our research." He stuck out his hand and shook Harry's. "I'm Dr. Mashburn and I work for the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry."

Harry regarded the man critically. As far as Unspeakables went, this man seemed to be the most normal and friendly he had ever encountered. The more Harry felt at ease around the man, the more he knew he had to keep his guard up.

Mashburn pulled out a chair and motioned for Harry to have a seat. "Now, I would like you to start at the beginning. How did You-Know-Who manage to return to life?"

"Well," Harry swallowed hard, aware that the entire room was watching him, "it all started in a graveyard outside of Little Hangleton, the town where Voldemort's father had lived–"

The door banged open and Harry was glad for the distraction. That is, until, he saw Tonks enter with a very pale Harry Potter.

Dumbledore stood immediately. "Everything alright, Miss Tonks?"

Tonks shook her head, looking concerned. "He had a nightmare, Professor. And he said he wanted to talk to you." Young Harry took a couple steps forward.

Dumbledore approached him, kneeling down in front of shaking boy. "What was it, Harry?"

"A … " He took a shuddery breath. "A graveyard. And a man with red eyes."

Dr. Mashburn's eyes widened and he shot the older Harry a sharp look.

"The man was small," the boy continued. "And then … then he came out of a–"

"Cauldron," Harry finished and Dumbledore turned around to stare at him. Harry met his eyes. "He's talking about the return of Voldemort."

"How long have you been having these visions?" Dumbledore asked the boy urgently.

"Since my birthday," he sniffled.

"Did you do anything about them? Tell anyone?"

Harry shook his head. "I just wished … I wished that someone would come that could help me. I was scared. I wanted them to go away."

Dumbledore stood. "Miss Tonks, can you take Harry back to his room please." Tonks nodded and left. He turned to the older Harry. "Do you get visions?" he answered bluntly.

Harry stared down into his lap and nodded.

"And were you present at the rebirth of Voldemort?"

"Yes, I was."

"Are you trying to say," Mashburn asked, incredulous, "that all of this happened because a 6 year old wanted his nightmares to go away?"

"I am," he responded bluntly. "Mr. Harrison, would you mind assisting Harry with his visions so that there will be no more damage done? At least until we can find a more permanent solution."

Harry bit his lip. It would be nice to have reassurance that his visions would not be plaguing his younger self anymore, but … could he face himself everyday? Could he work and not have the urge to reveal the future? He thought of all the things he could have changed – Voldemort's return, letting Pettigrew go, Sirius' death … and he knew the answer, just as quickly as he'd thought to worry about if he could resist the temptation.

"No," he said suddenly, startling the spectators. "I can't."

"What–" Mashburn began, only to be cut off from an angry exclamation from the Slytherin table.

"Are you really that heartless?" Becker yelled. "You won't even help a child in need?"

"You don't understand–" he began desperately.

"No, _you_ don't understand. After all that child has been through, you are going to make him suffer even more pain? You're even worse than his relatives."

Harry saw red. "You have no idea what you are talking about! Do you think I don't know what it's like? How horrible it feels to know that your own family doesn't give a damn about you? To be locked away for just being what you are? Trust me, I know all too well." He stood up stiffly. "I can't help. I'm sorry but I can't help everyone."

The door banging shut left a sickening echo in his bleak wake.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**A/N: I start school tomorrow and decided that, in honor of my first day of my last year of high school, I would update this. It cannot be beta-ed right now as my beta, Xirleb70, is unavailable for the time being, so I am taking the chance and updating without it being as thoroughly edited. I hope to have the beta-ed version up soon. I hope you all enjoy!**

_**Chapter Sixteen**_

_Previous Chapter: Harry saw red. "You have no idea what you are talking about! Do you think I don't know what it's like? How horrible it feels to know that your own family doesn't give a damn about you? To be locked away for just being what you are? Trust me, I know all too well." He stood up stiffly. "I can't help. I'm sorry but I can't help everyone."_

_The door banging shut left a sickening echo in his bleak wake._

Harry ran. Throughout his childhood, running had been his escape. It had been the only way to avoid the beating of his cousin's fist, the only way to get away from the horrible life he had been stuck with. He ran and ran until he couldn't run anymore.

He burst through the door of the Astronomy Tower and hit the wall, staring down the precipitous drop. He breathed in heavily, head swimming with vertigo, and dropped to his knees. He slammed his back in to the bricks, sliding down the only barrier between him and assured death.

Clenching his teeth together, he gazed up in to the looming black sky. The stars were barely visible through the haze, but Harry knew they were there, shining down on him.

"Mum," he choked, eyes blinking back the tears he would not let fall, "Dad, I can't do this. I can't do this anymore. Why is it always me? Why do they always need me to fall back on? How can they expect me to save the whole world when I can't even … I can't even save myself. I'm not a hero. I can't … I'm only sixteen. I can't do it."

He looked down at his clenched hands. "He is going to kill me," he announced with absolute finality. "He is going to kill me, he is going to kill Remus, he is going to kill Red … he is going to kill them all, everyone I have left, what is left of my family. And then me. And there is nothing I can do about it." He stood up and screamed into the night, all the rage he felt at the hopelessness of the situation pouring out of his voice. "Do you hear me? I CAN'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT!"

* * *

"Harrison? Harrison?"

Harry felt dizzy and cold. He stared blearily at the stone floor below him, bewilderingly wondering about how he had ended up on it. There were no stone floors in the Dursley's world of crisp carpets and sparkling linoleum. And unless he had passed out on the kitchen table, he was sure that he wasn't still at Grimmauld Place.

Groaning, he pushed himself up, knocking his head into a sharp metal object. He cursed and glared at the offending entity. A brass telescope, the kind that would be found …

At Hogwarts. He was at Hogwarts.

As his mind tried to grasp this new information, the events of the past week emerged in his head. He flopped back on the floor. It was better to just lie there, he decided, than to face another day like the last.

"Are you alright, Harrison?"

"I … think I'm going to be sick." He abandoned his safe spot on the ground once more and retched over the ledge. Panting, he sank back into a heap.

"Well that was a pleasant sight." The voice had a sarcastic tint to it, but still sounded compassionate. Harry recognized it at once, but did not want to believe that this would be the person to find him, that this would be the person who cared enough to look after him. Slowly, he opened his eyes and peered out from beneath his arms.

Severus Snape met his eyes directly. He pushed forward a small vile of purplish liquid. "Drink this," he ordered. "It will settle your stomach."

"Thanks," he mumbled and downed the bottle. It burned slightly going down.

"I did not think I would find you up here," Snape commented lightly, taking the empty bottle back and pocketing it. "You friends are scouring downstairs for you and Lupin" his nose wrinkled in distaste "is searching Hogsmeade and the forest."

"I wanted to get as far away from the Great Hall as I could," Harry admitted, sitting up and wrapping his arms around his legs.

"Did you spend the whole night up here?" Snape's brow creased slightly in concern and Harry had to look away.

He nodded. "I didn't mean to. I guess I just … fell asleep." Biting his lip, he asked hesitantly, "Is everyone really mad at me?" He hated how immature he sounded, but he needed to know.

Snape sighed. "I won't lie to you, Harrison. There are some people down there that aren't very happy with you."

He wrapped himself in tighter. "Maybe I should've just said yes. It would've been so much easier … "

"Never." Snape's eyes were fierce and Harry flinched back uncontrollably. "Never say yes to someone just because it's what everyone wants you to do."

Unbidden a voice popped into his head. '_… a choice between what is right and what is easy …_' Dumbledore's words from the end-of-the-term speech after Cedric was murdered. Harry had sworn to himself to never take the easy way out, to always stand his ground and fight. And he would.

"I know," Harry whispered. "I know. But sometimes I forget … It seems like no matter what I choose, someone always gets hurt. Including me. This time it was just so – " He stopped. He had been going to say 'literal', but Snape couldn't know that, not yet. "… hard," he finished lamely. Snape's eyes seemed to pierce through him and he severely hoped that the man was not reading his mind. "What's going to happen to the kid now?"

"They are sending him to a safe house for the time being. It's what they should have done in the first place." Snape stood up and extended a hand to help the student. "But don't worry about that. You did nothing wrong."

Harry stared at the hand in wonder. "Why are being so nice to me? You don't even know me."

"You are in my House, Harrison," Snape said briskly. "And I take that very seriously. I would never let any of my students waste away on top of tower, especially in November." He softened a bit and smiled. "And you seem like you could use some help every now and then."

Harry smiled back and took the hand.

* * *

_For the second time that day Harry awoke to a hard stone floor in his face. Rubbing his aching head, he sat up and glanced around. The comfortable guest room at Hogwarts had disappeared; instead Harry found himself in a richly furnished chamber and in front of a roaring fire._

_He slowly got his feet, brushing invisible dust of his robes._

"_Enjoying your stay in 1986, Potter?"_

_Harry nearly jumped out of his skin. Sitting on the other side of the room was Lord Voldemort._

"_I know you are there, Harry," Voldemort said tauntingly, the firelight flickering off his too-white skin. "I can sense you."_

_To no avail, he scanned the room for an exit. Cautiously he approached the Dark Lord. Voldemort appeared to be sleeping, eyes closed and mouth rested in a lazy smirk._

"_Now don't worry, Harry," he cooed, sending shivers up and down Harry's spine. "You're still safely sleeping up at the castle. I just simply wanted to remind you."_

"_Remind me of what?" he asked warily._

"_I'm watching you, Harry. You are far less protected here than you ever have been. It is almost time." He let out a high-pitched chuckle, baring his sharp teeth. "We will meet soon, Harry. But in the meantime … **Crucio!**" _

Harry bolted up in bed, screaming his lungs raw. The door slammed open, shaking on its hinges, and Remus appeared.

"Harry! Are you okay?" Harry doubled over on the bed and Remus wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Do you need to go to Madame Pomphrey?"

"I'm fine – Ahhhh!" Harry screamed again, clutching his hair and pulling his head back. He gazed up at Remus with desperate green eyes. "I need help."

"Harry, your face! You look … you look like you!"

Harry shivered in agony. "I can't hold it. Please, just cast a glamour."

Remus raised his wand, mumbled an incantation, and scooped the boy up into his arms. Even without the assistance of his werewolf strength, Remus was sure he would have been able to lift the boy up; he was much too light for his age.

"Don't worry, Harry," he said softly, rubbing the shaking child's hair. "We're going to get you some help."

* * *

Madame Pomphrey entered the hall, wiping sweat from her brow. "Well, I've done everything I can," she said as she gazed at the concerned group in front of her.

Remus Lupin was slumped down in a chair in the corner, but looked up sharply when she came out. The Headmaster was calmly sitting by the door and munching on what looked suspiciously like jelly beans. Mr. Peterson had his arm around Miss Williams, who was sobbing into his shirt. But the man who shocked her the most was pacing up and down the corridor, muttering under his breath. Severus Snape had shown up only moments after Harrison had been brought into the Hospital Wing and had remained outside his room ever since. Madame Pomphrey had never seen the Professor so worried in the entire time she had known him.

"And?" Lupin croaked, his face filled with anxiety.

"He's going to be fine," she assured them and there was a collective sigh of relief. Dumbledore began to hum quietly to himself. "He just needs some sleep."

"What happened to him?" Severus asked sharply.

Madame Pomphrey shook her head in confusion. "I wish I knew. I thought you said he never left his room today," she said, staring at Lupin. He gave her a puzzled look.

"He didn't," he replied. "I was outside his door all afternoon."

"Then how would he be suffering from exposure to the Cruciatus Curse?"

"_What?_"

"My tests indicate that he was held under it for a full minute," she reported, trying her best to ignore the horrified stares directed at her. "And I believe this wasn't the first time. It shows signs of previous curses cast upon him. Both Cruciatus and Imperius."

"Curious," Dumbledore muttered to himself, deep in thought.

Miss Williams rose slowly, trying to stop the tears that were running down her face. "Can I see him?" she asked shakily.

"Of course," the matron said gently. "He's sleeping right now and I must ask that you keep quiet until he wakes up. He really needs his rest right now."

"Okay." She walked up to the Hospital Wing door and tentatively pushed the door open. Madame Pomphrey watched her progress before turning back to address the rest. "No more visitors until tomorrow morning," she instructed sternly.

"But – " Lupin started to protest, but she hushed him.

"No. You can come back in the morning. All of you go get some sleep."

* * *

Lelia's footsteps echoed in the dark infirmary. She gazed around at the empty hospital beds, her eyes finally resting at the end of the ward. She reached up and parted the curtains.

Zach looked peaceful. His dark hair was pressed up on the pillow, making him look like a hedgehog. The blankets were pulled up tight around his neck, the fringe tickling his nose. He wrinkled it slightly and turned his head. Lelia repressed a chuckle.

He definitely didn't look like someone who had been subjected to one of the most painful curses in Wizarding history.

This thought sobered Lelia right up. She knew what kind of agony that spell could inflict; her father had taught her many things.

She pulled a chair up next to his bed and closed the drapes again. "Hi, Zach," she greeted softly. "How are you feeling?" No answer. "That was a stupid question."

Leaning her elbows on the edge of the bed, she peered at the face of her new friend. There were so many things about him that she didn't know, so many things that she was dying to find out. Zachary Harrison was a mystery to her.

"I'm sorry all this is happening to you, Zach," she said, reaching up to brush the hair off his forehead. "But it will all get better soon. It has to. I promise – " With a gasp, she stopped.

The boy in front of her changed slightly. She watched as his hair shortened and his face shifted. She could see his eyes behind shuttered eyelids roll upwards. And she could feel the skin beneath her fingers alter, becoming more rough.

She removed her hand from his forehead and brought it to her mouth in shock. Where Zachary Harrison's unblemished skin had been there was now a stark lightning bolt shaped scar.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

_**Chapter Seventeen**_

_Previous Chapter: She removed her hand from his forehead and brought it to her mouth in shock. Where Zachary Harrison's unblemished skin had been there was now a stark lightning bolt shaped scar._

Harry snorted as something brushed under his nose. He reached his arm up to swipe it away, startled when a searing pain shot down to his finger tips.

"Fuck!" he muttered, wincing. He squinted his eyes open and looked around taking inventory. Harsh white walls and matching gauze curtains surrounding his bed. Yeah, he was sure he was in the Hospital Wing.

He sunk back into his pillows with a sigh. He couldn't remember why he was here, but he wasn't really that interested; it wasn't the first time he had found himself dragged out of unconsciousness to find himself sprawled in the same spot.

_I'll worry about it in the morning_, he assured himself. At least he would get a nice, uninterrupted night's sleep.

"Good morning, Harry."

"G'morning, Lelia," he mumbled, turning onto his side and nestling deep into the pillows. Ooooh, so soft…

"Wait, what?" He sat straight up, ignoring the pain coursing through his body, cutting through his veins.

"I said, 'Good morning, Harry'," she repeated calmly. She was so nonchalant that she could have been discussing the weather. "That is your name, is it not?"

"Yeah … but … _how_?"

Lelia reached into the pocket of her robe and pulled out a small compact mirror. Flipping it open, she pointed the glass surface towards his face.

Emerald green eyes peered back at him and he groaned.

"Glamour didn't hold, huh?"

"Nope." She snapped it shut and gave Harry a piercing stare. "Do you want to tell me what is going on?"

"Do I have a choice?" Harry watched, bemused, as she pretended to consider it.

"No, not really."

He leaned back and contemplated the ceiling. "Then you leave me no choice," he said slowly, humming in thought. "I suppose I will, then," he finally conceded, relaxing. Lelia relaxed as well, ready to hear the whole story her mysterious friend had been hiding for so long.

* * *

"Enter," his Master boomed viciously and Pettigrew trembled, his knees knocking harshly. He nervously pushed the door open and peered inside.

"I said **enter**, Wormtail," Voldemort demanded impatiently, glaring. "If I wanted you to stand in the door like an idiot, I would have told you so." Pettigrew squeaked fretfully, scuttling inside. "Do you have an update for me?

"Ye-yes," he stuttered, bowing clumsily. "The plan w-we-went perfectly. He-he spent the ni-ight in the Hospital Wing," he reported haltingly.

Voldemort smirked and brought his finger tips together. "Perfect. The next stage begins tomorrow." He stood up and walked over to the window, peering into the night sky. "Soon, Harry," he promised smilingly. "Soon."

* * *

"You need to stay another night, young man. For observation."

Harry slid his feet onto the cold stone floor, wincing vaguely as he applied weight to them for the first time since his entry into the Hospital Wing. That had been two interminable days ago and he was longing for a change of scenery; the white was starting to burn his eyes. "I'm fine, Madame Pomfrey. I swear."

The matron snorted. "You clearly are not fine! You can barely walk." She moved to grasp Harry's arm, but he pulled away defensively.

Defiantly, he slipped each foot into a padded slipper and took a few tentative steps forward. "There," he said proudly, "See? I'm perfectly capable of moving—all by myself." He shot her a smug smile, but the effect was lost of he pitched forward, clutching at the bedside table for support.

With a raised eyebrow and dismissive harrumph, Madame Pomfrey efficiently pushed the defeated boy back into bed. "Sit! Stay! Good boy." He shot her an angry glare. "One more night, Harrison. You're lucky I haven't called any experts in yet. How you managed to be inflicted with an Unforgivable is beyond me! Though it's hardly a wonder why anyone would want to hit you with one sometimes," she muttered under her breath.

"It must be my contagious personality and charm," he beamed at her.

Ignoring the innocent look, she pulled the curtains around his bed open once more and started to her office. "You have a visitor, by the way," she called back over her shoulder before shutting the door behind her.

Harry settled against his pillows and sighed. The only friendly faces he had seen these days were the incessant check-ups from Remus and the occasional drop-ins from Lex. Lelia had been surprisingly absent, but he supposed that discovering your friend is a famous time-traveler who defeated the Dark Lord is a lot to take in. She hadn't mentioned anything to Lex yet though, for which Harry was grateful.

"Come in," he bid, reaching over to his nightstand for a glass of water and preparing for the entrance of a worrying werewolf. He nearly did a spit-take, however, when the sinister profile of Severus Snape came in to view. "Hello, Professor," he greeted calmly, but his heart was pounding against his ribs. "What can I do for you?"

Snape pulled up a chair, folding his fingers across his lap and shooting Harry a pointed stare. "How are you feeling, Harrison?" he asked briskly, examining the student laying before him for visible signs of damage.

"I'm fine, Professor. Just tired," he remarked, noting the dark circles under the Professor's own eyes. "I'd be better if I could get out of here." He was referring to the Hospital Wing, but Snape was quick to respond.

"They are still looking for a way of righting the time line."

"Are they anywhere close to a solution?"

Snape shook his head. "No nearer than they were when they figured out how you got here. The Ministry is bringing in new specialists everyday to analyze the problem, but they have had zero progress thus far." He rubbed his eyes in exasperation and Harry had a pang of sympathy over the stress the man must be under. "I keep telling Albus that so many people coming in and out of the castle is a security risk, but …" he trailed off bitterly.

"The Ministry is bringing in just as many Aurors," he said noncommittally and Snape gave an impatient sigh.

"Yes, but that doesn't stop students from being attacked right underneath our noses." There was no reply from Harry, so Snape pushed on. "What happened to you, Harrison?"

_Ah, the real reason he came,_ he thought. "I've already told everyone who has asked. I don't remember."

"I don't believe you."

Harry shrugged. "That's not my problem," he said impassively. "If I could tell you anything, I would. But I can't."

Snape opened his mouth as if to reply, but thought better of it. "I cannot make you tell me anything, Zachary. But I wish you would. You are a target for not only the Ministry now, but also for the Dark Lord. I am not sure what you know of …" He looked unsure of how to continue.

"I know you are a spy," he answered bluntly.

Snape nodded as though he expected that answer. "They don't trust me as they did before the end of the first war. But I do know that the Dark Lord has something planned for you. I can't help you unless I know what is happening. Until I know the full truth, I cannot risk it."

Harry stared at his hands for a moment, briefly running his fingers over the faded scar carved there. Then his face rose up to meet his Professor's eyes.

"With all due respect, sir, you can't help me either way."

* * *

Another day and another bicker with Madame Pomfrey later, Harry left the Hospital Wing. Stomach growling, he walked with a slight limp to the Great Hall, ignoring the curious stares as he hobbled past. He knew it was too much to hope for that the news of his "accident" hadn't spread around the school.

Sighing bitterly at the thought that he was gawked at even when no one knew he was the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry stepped into the hustle and bustle of the Great Hall. Silence moved through the room in a wave as he walked towards the Slytherin table.

"Is that him then?" a voice cut through the hushed conversations of the Hall. Harry turned to glare at the speaker, only to meet the eyes of a stout balding man. "He doesn't look like much."

"Speak for yourself," Harry bit out, blatantly staring at the roll of fat that hung over the man's belt.

The man shot Harry a nasty look and cleared his throat. Minister Bagnold, who was standing at his side, took her cue.

"Be more respectful, Mr. Harrison," she reprimanded. "This man might be your ticket out of this year."

"Which we would all be thankful for," Crouch mumbled under his breath.

The man stuck out his hand and introduced himself smugly. "Professor Harvey Huffman, at your service."

"Professor Huffman's research on the influence of time waves is some of the most extensive work in the world," the Minister bragged, beaming at the man.

Harry reluctantly shook the Professor's hand. The skin felt rubbery under his finger tips and he grimaced. He gave Huffman a forced smile just as a deep pain shot through his forehead.

He took a sharp intake of break and pulled away, a deeply puzzled look etched on his face. Huffman's smile grew and he winked at Harry with one watery eye. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Harrison. I'm sure I'll have some questions for you later, but I must retire to my room. Work begins first thing tomorrow morning." With a jaunty nod of his head, he shuffled out of the room.

Harry pushed past the Minister and went to the Head table, leaning his hands on the table and staring at the Headmaster. "We need to talk."


	18. Chapter Eighteen

_**Chapter Eighteen**_

_Previous Chapter: Harry pushed past the Minister and went to the Head table, leaning his hands on the table and staring at the Headmaster. "We need to talk." _

Dumbledore gave the boy before him a piercing gaze, gently probing into his mind as to not alarm him. Harrison looked away and the Headmaster sighed in defeat. "About what?" he queried, not letting any of the previous failed interaction show on his face. It frustrated him greatly that the boy was so aware of his Legilimency. He has obviously encountered it before, but where? And _why_?

"Could we go somewhere a bit more … _secure_," Harrison asked, lowering his voice. Crouch overheard him anyway.

"Anything you have to say about Professor Huffman can be said to all of us," he declared imperiously.

Harrison shot Dumbledore a pleading look, but he just shook his head. "Go ahead."

"That man is a danger to us all," he blurted out, looking pained. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Crouch stepped up to the table and grabbed Harrison roughly by his elbow. He flinched and tried to wrench his arm away, but Crouch held it steadfastly. "The only one who is any danger here," he spat, "is you."

"Professor Huffman is a respected wizard, Mr. Harrison," Dumbledore soothed him. "He is not going to bring anyone to harm."

"He's not Professor Huffman!" he yelled, finally jerking his arm out of Crouch's grip.

Dumbledore swiftly stood and moved around the table, standing in front of the irate teenager. "What makes you say that?"

Harrison hesitated. "I just … I just know, Headmaster." Crouch snorted.

"Listen to him, Albus. This boy is clearly delusional."

"Was it one of your visions," Dumbledore gently prodded.

"Something like that," nodded Harrison.

"Who is he?" Harrison looked towards the floor. "Mr. Harrison, who is that man?" But he did not answer.

"He is clearly making this all up!" raved Crouch. "I think it is time we remove him from this school!"

Harrison's head shot back up. "What?"

Dumbledore reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder. "We believe it would be in your best interests if you were taken to a safer location, Zachary. You are quite clearly a target for Lord Voldemort and –"

"I'm not leaving!" he insisted.

"We could take precautions – "

"What sort of precautions?"

Dumbledore was a bit startled. "We were considering casting a Fidelius charm to guard your location until we can find a more permanent solution."

"The Fidelius charm isn't foolproof, Dumbledore, as I am sure you remember quite well."

The grip on Harrison's shoulder tightened and a look of guilt came in to the Headmaster's eyes. _How does he know … ? _

"I am not leaving," he repeated, before his eyes widened. Two Aurors stood at either side of him, grasping his arms tightly. Dumbledore stood still as he watched them drag the struggling boy away. "No, Headmaster!" he screamed. "He's dangerous! Don't trust him! Please!"

And then he was gone.

"Where are they taking him?" Severus was at his side instantly, harshly demanding in his ear.

"He'll be staying in a safe room here at the castle tonight," Dumbledore said calmly, not letting the remorse show on his face. "We will move him tomorrow."

Severus glanced at the door Harrison had just exited. "I think you are making a mistake, Albus."

"So do I, Severus. So do I."

* * *

Harry pushed himself up off the hard, cold floor of one of the dungeon rooms. He surveyed his surroundings. _I have got to get myself out of here_, he thought frantically. _He'll kill them if I don't … If only there was a way to warn them._

He peered through the thin slit of the wooden door blocking his way. A young guard lay asleep in the chair on the other side of the hall. His wand lay on the table next to her.

Harry put his hands on the door and shoved all his weight against it. No budge. He pushed even hard, pressing with all his might.

_I need to get out of here, I need to get out, I need to get out, get out!_

A warm feeling spread through his fingertips and the door zapped him. Harry flew backwards in to a stone wall. Groaning, he sat up, rubbing his aching leg.

But the door creaked open.

* * *

Snape's eyes remained on the mysterious Professor throughout dinner that night. He hand was wrapped around his wand in his pocket. One wrong move …

"Relax, Severus," Minerva leaned over and whispered to him as he watched the Professor stand with the Minister and begin to leave. "Even if he is a threat, he wouldn't dare try something with so many people around."

Severus risked a glance at her and reluctantly calmed a bit. "I suppose you might be right – "

He stopped as all the doors to the Hall slammed shut. Among the sharp screams and chatter of the dinners, there was a loud maniacal laugh.

Professor Huffman held his wand aloft, pressed threateningly against the right temple of a frightened looking Minister Bagnold. He shot them an icy smile.

"You should have listened to the kid."

* * *

Harry limped towards the Great Hall, his anxiety increasing the closer he got. Nobody was passing by him; they were all in the Hall. A perfect target.

He ran faster.

Skidding to a halt, he grasped the handle to the main door and pulled. Nothing. Everyone was locked inside.

He leaned against a wall, slowly sliding down it in despair. He was too late. Harry smacked himself in the forehead and –

Wait.

He smacked himself in the head again and began to laugh.

Gaining strength he stood up and called out. "Elf!" A sharp crack filled the air and a small House Elf appeared.

"Can Mimsy help you, sir?" she asked timidly. Harry bent down to her height and she took a step back, surprised.

"Yes. Are there any other ways into the Great Hall?" he asked politely. "The ones I know about seem to be locked up."

She shyly nodded. "Mimsy could show sir one."

"That would be great."

* * *

"Everyone take out their wands and put them on the table," barked out Huffman. "Now!" The students did it immediately, the others reluctantly, but soon Huffman was able to summon a large pile of them behind him. Severus watched with slight interest as his hand shone bright silver as he did this, never moving his wand from the Minister's neck. "Great, now wasn't that easy?"

"What do you want?" Dumbledore asked, standing from his seat.

"Stay back, Headmaster." For the first time, there was a waver in Huffman's voice. "I'll kill her." The Minister took a shuddering breath.

"No you won't," said a voice from the other side of the room. Severus glanced over. Zachary Harrison stood there, wand raised in front of him, a note of steel in his words.

And he looked pissed.

"If you were just here to kill the Minister, you would have done it already," he explained as he moved closer, coming to rest fifteen feet in front of Huffman and his captive.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to arrive," Huffman said, smiling. "You were starting to worry me."

Harrison raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?"

"My Master wishes you speak with you."

"You went through all this trouble for little old me? I'm flattered."

Severus stared at him in surprise. He looked unconcerned, relaxed … like he had been in this situation way too many times before.

Huffman smirked and motioned to Harrison's robes. "Nice crest."

"What better way to defeat a rat than to use a snake, Pettigrew?"

A ripple of gasps rang through out the room and Huffman – no, Pettigrew, Snape remembered incredulously – laughed again. He raised his silver hand to his face and the mask melted away. There, an evil glint in his eye, stood his long-dead classmate Peter Pettigrew.

"Peter!" Minerva shrieked, forgetting her fear and jumping up in her chair. Her eyes were wide with unshed tears at the sight of her former student. "But – but – you're dead!"

"Not quite," he answered, not taking his eyes off Harrison's face.

"Black ki-killed you!" she stuttered. "He killed you and … he didn't kill anyone, did he?"

In response, Pettigrew just smiled wider. From his seat, Severus could see the Headmaster shaking with controlled fury.

Minerva shook her head, trying to piece everything together. "But why would you go after him then? Just to frame him? He was already on his way to jail for betraying Lilly and James!"

"He didn't." Harrison's cold, crisp voice cut through the hall. "Sirius didn't betray anyone."

"But he was their Secret Keeper. He told the Dark Lord where to find them."

"No," Pettigrew chuckled. "I was their Secret Keeper. I told the Dark Lord where they were."

"You framed him for everything?" The tears were flowing freely now as a look of dawning appeared on her face.

"And he spent the next thirteen years in Azkaban for it!" Lupin shouted from his spot, his teeth bared in a feral snarl.

Pettigrew shrugged, unconcerned at his old friend's reaction, and took a step closer to Harrison. The Minister saw her chance and started to run. "Don't move!" he ordered and she froze in place. He moved to stand next to her and kept his wand trained there. "We'll need to be leaving soon," he said pleasantly. "We wouldn't want to keep the Dark Lord waiting."

"You're scum," Harrison bit out.

"Did talking about your dear, dead godfather touch a nerve, Potter?"

Severus stopped breathing as Zachary Harrison slowly changed. The angles of his face straightened, his forehead shifted, and his blue eyes morphed back in to a very familiar looking green. Harry Potter tightened his grip on his wand, but didn't respond.

Pettigrew ignored the effect this was having on the Hall and reached into his robe. He pulled out a small, round object and floated it in front of him as it started glowing. "A Portkey," he answered the unasked question. "Straight to your meeting with the Dark Lord."

"What makes you think I'd go willingly?" Severus started. His looks may have changed, but the voice – that dark, brooding tone – remained the same.

Pettigrew chuckled. "The way I see it, you only have two choices. Either come right now or you try to hex me and I kill her first." The Minister's eyes darted around wildly, though the rest of her was still frozen. "So what will it be, Harry? You or her?"

Severus watched Harry glance towards the terrified woman and lower his wand.

"Harry! No!" Lupin shouted and started forward, but Pettigrew raised his hand and Lupin hit an invisible wall.

"Stay out of this one, Lupin."

Harry shot him an apologetic glance. "Don't worry, Remus. I'll be fine."

"Harry," Dumbledore began and Severus started; the man had remained unnervingly quiet throughout the proceedings.

"No." His firm rebuttal cut off whatever the Headmaster was going to say. Harry walked towards the orb and outstretched his hand.

Three things seemed to happened simultaneously. A beam of light shot out of Harry's hand, knocking the orb against Pettigrew's stomach. He let out a guttural roar and shot a curse towards the Minister as he was swept away. And the curse, a bright and deadly green, collided with Harry Potter as he jumped in front of the Minister.

He hit the ground with a deafening thud.


End file.
